


101 Kisses

by asarahworld



Series: The Doctor and Rose Tyler [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: 101 kisses, F/M, writing trope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-20 06:16:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 101
Words: 40,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3639921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asarahworld/pseuds/asarahworld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose Tyler and the Doctor.  Kissing their way through time and space.  Nine, Ten, and Tentoo appear the most frequently; but don't be surprised to see other familiar faces...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Starlight

Rose leaned against the Doctor, legs dangling over the edge of the TARDIS doorway, eyes staring enraptured into the ethereal, radiant stars. Her gaze shifted, following the Doctor’s hand as he pointed to the nearest nebula, and gasped. The Rose Nebula; aptly named, for the spiraling gas deeply resembled the Earth flower. Rose looked back at her Doctor, smiling. She leaned in, and before she consciously realized it, softly pressed her lips against his. “Thank you,” she whispered, hardly daring to break the serene silence. The Doctor said nothing, kissing her forehead softly as he gazed at the swirling dust that reminded him so much of his ‘pink ‘n’ yellow’ Rose.


	2. Four of Diamonds

“We did it!” Rose exclaimed, delighted.

  
“Yeah,” the Doctor grinned, tucking the card inside his jacket pocket. They had just found the ‘four diamonds’, as described by the head Game Maker, or rather, the four of diamonds. However, they had not been one hundred percent certain that the volatile Hoth would allow them to leave, even though they had fulfilled their half of the bargain – find the four diamonds and the two could leave, provided they never returned. The Hoth had been extremely wary of the Doctor, bestowing the ominous name of ‘Oncoming Storm’ upon him. Not that Rose minded leaving; contrarily, she was happy to be gone, off to a new world. “Rose?”

“Mmmm?” She replied absent-mindedly. The Doctor whispered something into her ear and, reddening ever so slightly, pressed his lips to her cheek.


	3. Words

If there was one thing that was constant with the Doctor, it was his habit of babbling. Sometimes, Rose could hardly slip a word in, even had she wanted to. She loved listening to the Doctor as he rambled about alien worlds and humans, even when Jack found it quite dull and left for elsewhere in the time machine. Today was no different. Except...

Rose walked up to the Doctor and gently placed her finger against his mouth. The Time Lord, startled, grew silent and smiled down at her – Rose knew that it was now or never. She pressed her lips to his; wordlessly conveying everything she had ever needed to tell him, every hidden emotion surfacing as she clung to the man who had changed her life. The kiss deepened as the Doctor wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer until he felt her single heart beating against his. Entwined together, they sank to the ground and she laid her head across his chest. The Doctor remained silent and tentatively kissed the top of her head. All the languages he knew were insufficient in comparison to the events that had just transpired. That one kiss, saying everything words could not, showed them everything either had ever needed to know.


	4. Strawberry Jam

“You’ve got a little something.”  
“What?”  
“Something just here...”


	5. Green Tea

“You know, when you said we were going for Green Tea, I was thinking Ancient China or something.”

  
“But this is so much better, yeah?”

“Not really, no.” Rose turned to face the Doctor, who was beginning to pout at her response.

“Tea, that’s green!”

“I’ll show you tea that’s green,” and pushed back when the Doctor suddenly pecked her on the mouth. “Down, boy! Whotcha do that for?” She asked playfully, beginning to run her fingers through his messy hair, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Oi! I take you travelling through all of time and space and this is the thanks I get?” The Doctor pushed his glasses to the bridge of his nose and looked Rose over. “Come over and apologize,” he teased, arms opened wide. Rose hesitated only a second, sipping her tea to steady herself, before burrowing into the Time Lord.

The Doctor grinned and leaned down to kiss her, wholly surprised when tea spattered over his suit. Rose appeared properly shocked, though he knew it to be partially faked.

“I suppose I ought to have set my tea down first, eh?”

“Rose Tyler!” The Doctor spluttered. Rose only smiled.

Rose kissed his cheek, licking the tea that was dribbling down his face and softly rubbing his now damp sideburns. “I suppose we’d better get you cleaned up,” she stood, pulling the Doctor up with her. “To the TARDIS.”

“Allons-y, Rose Tyler.” The Doctor winked as they set off, clasping hands, to the TARDIS.


	6. 72 Hours

“Doctor, I’m fine.” Rose protested, swinging her legs over the side of the bed.  
“Rose, seventy-two hours ago, you were, well, stone.” The Doctor eased Rose back onto the mattress.  
“I know,” Rose sighed, exasperated and bored. “That’s been, what, four days. It’s loads of time.” She grabbed the Doctor’s hand, feeling it, rubbing flesh against flesh. “Way you are, people’d think you were the rock.”  
The Doctor laughed. “No, that one’s all you,” he joked, pulling the sheets around Rose.  
“You’re tucking me, then? So where’s my goodnight kiss?” Rose teased, sitting back up and puckering her lips.  
“I’ve never given you a goodnight kiss before...” the Doctor tilted his head, a mischievous smile forming on his lips.  
“About time you did then,” Rose breathed into his ear, before pressing her lips to his.


	7. Lingerie

“Rose,” the Doctor bounded happily into her bedroom. “You’ll never guess where the TARDIS –”  
Rose turned around. “Doctor! Ah, I think your ship left this on the bed...” She gestured at what she was wearing, while trying to stay somewhat modest.  
The Doctor felt his face flushing slightly. She was so beautiful (for a human!) and the... clothing delicately accentuated her features.  
“She does that. One reason I’m rarely in the closet,” he managed to say, trying to say casual. The Doctor smiled, hoping for the cornball grin he had always worn last regeneration. “You look... nice.”  
“It’s too much.” Rose faced the drawers again, pulling out a summer dress.  
The Doctor walked forward and wrapped his arms around her from behind. “Er, very nice,” he kissed the back of her neck.


	8. Mistranslation

“No, no you’ve got it wrong. My name is the Doctor. This is Rose. We’ve come to help.”  
The aliens garbled at each other, the TARDIS translator picking up bits and pieces as it acclimated itself to the new environment. Finally, the one who appeared to be the leader grabbed both Rose and the Doctor by the hands and started propelling them forward.  
“Told you I’d get through to ‘em,” the Doctor grinned cheekily, folding his arms against his chest, his Northern accent thickening smugly.  
“I never doubted it,” Rose laughed. “Where do you s’pose we’re off to?”  
“Not a clue,” the Doctor replied happily.  
They arrived in a long, majestic hall filled with more aliens, each seated at various tables like at a fancy dinner party. Rose and the Doctor were led to a table elegantly set for two. Apparently the aliens were having a sort of celebration; Rose and the Doctor were greeted merrily by all, even by one who Rose assumed must be a sort of religious leader or the like. S/he/it spent nearly fifteen minutes talking to the pair before asking what seemed to be a serious question. Rose smiled and nodded to all the questions, glancing up at the Doctor who seemed to be enjoying himself to make sure she wasn’t agreeing to anything that had the potential to become disastrous. The grin slid off the Doctor’s face.  
“What is it?” Rose asked, suddenly concerned.  
“Those... Those were weddin’ vows,” The Doctor looked at Rose, anxious about her reaction. He had just married her, his pink n yellow human. He loved her, he knew now, but what were her feelings towards him?  
Rose bit her lip, a smile half-formed. “You may now kiss the bride,” she offered lightly; Rose was surprised when the Doctor leaned in and kissed her cheek softly, hesitantly, his lips lingering just a fraction of a second longer than she thought he’d be comfortable with. And smiled.


	9. Fancy Dress

“Is all this really necessary?” The Doctor groaned.  
Rose frowned. “I don't get it. You wore a suit all the time before... before this regeneration.” She searched for the word the Time Lord had used the first time she had seen him regenerate.  
“It's your fault. You're the one who bought these...skinny jeans.” He winked, casually hooking his thumbs into the belt loops of said jeans, smiling.  
“I already compromised your outfit! Mum would've had you in a black tuxedo, bow tie and all.” Rose pulled off his tee shirt, trying not to laugh. “Come on, then.”  
The Doctor shrugged into the dress shirt and started buttoning.  
“I trust you can tie a bow-tie!” Rose called from the other side of the open wardrobe. The Doctor could see her jeans drop to the floor.  
“Of course I can! You don't travel all round time and space for nine hundred years without learning how to dress.” He watched as the tee shirt, then (eyes widening) the bra fell to the floor.  
Rose stepped back in front of the bed. “Zip me up?” Her hair was already swept into an elegant bun. The dress' zipper was long, starting past her bum and, once fastened, would allow the dress to hug her curves in all the right places. The Doctor placed a hesitant hand on the zipper and pulled the fabric together.  
Rose could feel the Doctor's hand on her back, followng the ascending zip. “There's a, uh, clasp on the top, if you wouldn't mind.” After fastening the hook, the Doctor slowly spun Rose around.  
“You look beautiful,” he smiled softly. Rose leaned in and wrapped her arms around his back. The Doctor bent his head and softly kissed her cheek before whispering lovingly into her ear: “for a human.”


	10. Pebbles

A/N: I don't know if this makes any difference, but I figured maybe I'd just tell you guys which regeneration of the Doctor I pictured for each of the chapters thus far.  
Starlight: Ninth  
Four of Diamonds: Tenth  
Words: Tenth  
Strawberry Jam: Tenth  
Green Tea: Tenth  
72 Hours: Tenth  
Lingerie: Tenth  
Mistranslation: Ninth  
Fancy Dress: Tentoo  
Pebbles: Ninth

They stepped out of the TARDIS together, automatically reaching for the other's hand.  
The time ship had landed on a planet completely new to Rose (the Doctor had visited once, lifetimes ago); the soft roseate clouds reflected over the still, sparkling waters that gently lapped the iridescent pebbled beach.  
They walked along the lake in serene silence, neither wishing to break the seemingly magical effect that the surrounding landscape evoked, when the Doctor suddenly stopped, picking up what appeared to be a random rock (in actuality, he had been distractedly scanning, searching, for the perfect pebble; distracted by the way the silvery moons illuminated her face, distracted by the soft pressure of her hand clasping his, distracted by his pink n yellow human).  
He turned the stone round in his hand, quietly thinking. He should tell her. It would be the perfect setting – the scenery practically screamed her name, why would he take her here?  
He turned to face her, flashbacks of memories filed under Rose Tyler flying through his mind (mostly of her smiling, smiling in a way he had never seen before, a Rose Tyler smile, with her tongue poking out between her teeth as she laughed).  
“Rose,” he started uncertainly, still looking out on the water as he felt her gaze shift. He hesitated, saying nothing more; instead, he pressed the transluscent quartzite into her palm.  
She leaned against him and he wrapped his arm round her.  
“It's beautiful,” she murmured.  
The Doctor said nothing, merely pulling her closer and softly pressing his lips to her forehead as they gazed out at the shining waters.


	11. Valentine's Day

The Doctor frowned. "Rose, be reasonable. You should spend some time with your mother."  
"We did spend a whole afternoon with her, not two days ago." Rose pouted, twirling her hair round a finger. He was up to something, he was. The TARDIS groaned as she materialized outside the Powell Estate.  
"Go. Jackie'll wanna see you. Say hullo to Mickey the Idiot." The Doctor picked up the telephone, waving it threateningly. "Let me call her and make sure she knows you’re on your way," he smirked.  
Rose sighed. There was no way she was winning this one. "Fine." She walked towards the door and opened it, stepping outside the small, yet infinite, blue box. She looked at the city, the people everywhere, and reached automatically for the Doctor's hand, turning around to see the TARDIS disappear, when her mobile buzzed. 'See you in a bit ;)', the message next to a small blue box read. Rose half-smiled, and dialled Jackie's number.  
"Hullo?"  
"Mum, it's me. How are you?" Rose bit her lip, mentally kicking herself for not just coming out and saying that she was outside the estate and wanted to know if Jackie was at home.  
"'M fine, sweetheart. Is anything wrong? You never call me out of the blue." Jackie's voice sounded wistful.  
"Nah, just wondered if you were at home. Only, the Doctor just left me here for a, for a visit." Rose hated how her voice sounded so faked. "Guess he needed an afternoon to himself or something." She invented, hoping her mother would understand.  
"Well, if you're in London right now, and I mean in the present, why don't you come over for a cuppa?" Jackie pronounced, delighted that she would finally be able to spend an afternoon with her daughter without that Time Lord. Not that she minded him (in fact, she was secretly very pleased about the relationship her daughter had with that alien, not that she'd ever tell the Doctor that she fully approved of him), but it would be nice to have a day just her and Rose. "You can tell me everything that you and that Doctor have been up to," she finished cheerily.  
"Ten minutes ok, then? He parked on the other side of the estate," Rose rolled her eyes.  
"Just enough time for me to put the kettle on," Jackie replied, smiling.

DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW

The Doctor smiled, picking up a small, pink heart shaped locket. The markets of Renaya IV had always been a favourite of his. In fact, he had stopped there on many occasions, often with a companion who fancied a look at something exactly like this - an alien space market.  
The locket was actually made of a material similar to white-gold and hung upon a delicate chain of the same metal. The smooth, blank surface was to be engraved upon, he noticed. Pulling a piece of paper and a pen from the depths of one of his pockets, the Doctor wrote two sentences, one for each side of the locket. "How much?" He asked the attendent, a Catkind of New Savannah.  
"Eighty-six pleebles." She stared at him.  
"Ah, yes. Um, how about a trade?" The Doctor asked her. "I haven't any pleebles on me...Tell you what, can you hold onto it for me?" He began emptying his pockets, searching for something to trade. A pack of cards, banana chips, a toque, a Beatles CD, two tickets to see Franz Liszt....He pulled out a tin of catnip. Odd, he didn't really like cats. He was about to continue his search when the Cat stopped him.  
"The locket for the deneashes." She pawed the catnip.  
"For the...deneashes." The Doctor pretended to think it over. "Weeellllll, alright then! Here are the deneashes, ma'am."  
"Your necklace, sir," she replied good-naturedly.  
"Thank you," he smiled and exited the market. There was only one planet he'd even consider bringing this locket to, to have it engraved upon.  
DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW  
The Doctor stepped back into the TARDIS, tucking the newly engraved locket safely into the breast pocket of his suit. Now, he just had to wait for the perfect moment.  
DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW  
"And that's really all that happened," Rose insisted, interrupted by the groaning of the reappearing TARDIS.  
"You're going to finish your tea," Jackie pointed back at the chair threateningly. "We're having a right, proper visit. If he wants to stay, he can but he's not going to whisk back into that spaceship without finishing tea." She glared at the Doctor as he stepped out of the TARDIS, beaming. "You better be keeping her safe."  
"Of course," the Doctor looked from Jackie to Rose. "What's that about?"  
"Nothing," Rose said hurriedly. "Mum, d'you want me to put the tea away?"  
Jackie's expression softened. "S alright. Go on, back that box with you. Explore the galaxy. And don't forget to write!" She teased, though hoping the Doctor would bring her back soon. Rose hugged her mother before following the Doctor into the TARDIS.  
A/N: Hope your enjoying the story! Just a quickie here - can't believe how long this is getting. Think this is my longest chapter for this story by far - even has a plot and everything! Thanks for reading. Anyway, back to the TARDIS!  
DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW  
They sat on the floor, legs danging out the door, staring out at the infinity of stars. The Doctor, still staring at Rose, finally worked up his courage and pulled the small box out of his pocket.  
"You know, there are actually about eleven saints who share the name Valentine," the Doctor said the first thing that came to mind.  
"Mmmm," Rose leaned her head against his shoulder, gazing out into the sky.  
"The date of Valentine's day also isn't necessarily February fourteenth. At least two Earth religions celebrate in July." He hinted, hoping she would understand what he was trying to communicate. Today was Valentine's Day.  
"Rose," he finally said. She turned and looked at him.  
He opened the box and lifted out the necklace.  
"Doctor...it's beautiful," Rose breathed. He motioned for her to secure her hair as he gently clasped the hook together, his fingers touching her neck leaving the short hairs raised in anticipation. She twisted back to thank him and was caught off guard by just how close their faces were. She could see every hair on his face, his stubble beginning to grow in, his breath hot on her lips, and, unconsciously, leaned in closer. The Doctor, not entirely caught off-guard, smiled in anticipation.  
It wasn't fireworks. It wasn't a fiery explosion as if the world had just been born. It was sweet and tender. Their lips lingered over the other's, hesisitant at first. It was over in the blink of an eye, yet lasted an eternity.  
I love you.  
Rose Tyler and the Doctor.  
He'd tell her what the circles meant. What words were engraved on the hearts. What was seared onto his hearts.  
Forever.


	12. Street Scene

"We've materialized," the Doctor announced to his three companions, turning to look at the viewer. "Earth, by the looks of it."

"Oxygen, nitrogen, carbon dioxide...Grandfather, the atmospheric gases nearly match." Susan called, opening the doors so that they could have a look.

Ian and Barbara exchanged excited, yet cautious looks while the Doctor walked out the door. He looked up and down the street, beckoning his companions to join him.

"Well, it certainly seems like Earth, but what is all this?" Barbara stared, incredulous.

"Hmmm... Late 1980s, early 90s I believe." The Doctor thought, idly watching the people. A young girl sped past the group, blonde hair flying as she fuirously pedalled her red bicycle along the sidewalk, followed by a boy approximately the same age. As she rounded the corner, the handles faltered and the bike began to tilt. The Doctor made to turn back to the TARDIS crew but, for some strange reason, he found himself going to check on the little girl. "The child could be hurt and I, for one, certainly do not see any adults around," he reasoned. "And I am the Doctor." And he did have experiences with hurt children; it wasn't as if his own had never gotten into mischief. He smiled as he approached her.

"Are you hurt, child? You took a bad fall off that bicycle there." Her knee was badly scraped, faint bloodstains coloured her dress.

The girl scowled. First that man with the weird bow-tie and now this old man, running up to her after she fell off her bike like they'd never seen a kid do that before. The other man called himself the Doctor, too, she remembered. She stood up, pushing the confusion in her head aside.

"Yeah."

"Ah, here's the problem. You caught your dress in the chain here, my child." The Doctor smiled as he worked it free, careful not to tear it.

"Does it hurt?" He inspected the injury. Scrape, shallow, not bleeding. She'd be fine before the hour turned. The girl nodded. The Doctor pushed her blonde hair out of her face and wiped away the falling tear with his thumb. "Don't cry, child, it's only a scratch." He looked around. 

"Is that your mother?" She nodded again, kissing his cheek before walking to her mother, leaning on the bicycle.


	13. Lullaby

Rose snuggled closer to the Doctor. Outside, at work, or as part of the Estate, he was 'Doctor Tyler' or even simply 'John Tyler'. But here, in the privacy of their bedroom, he was always the Doctor. He smiled down in Rose's hair, glad she, at least, was sleeping. Part human, part Time Lord, the metacrisis Doctor did not need as much sleep as his human wife. However, where he could once go days, even weeks on occassion, without it, he now need a solid, uninterrupted block of REM sleep. Beside him, he felt Rose jerk awake. Instantly, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer.  
"Rose," he whispered. "Rose, it's okay. Shhh..." She was silently crying, her tears sliding down her face and across his chest. Panicking slightly, he did the first thing that came to mind. He began to sing. The young TARDIS in the corner of the room hadn't yet matured and so did not translate the Doctor's song. He rocked Rose gently as he quietly sang a lullaby. The lullaby. The one his mother had sang to him as a baby. The melody he crooned to his own children. The song he had whispered the first time he had held his granddaughter. A part of his culture, simply known as 'the lullaby of Gallifrey'.


	14. Who?

"Doctor," Rose made her way back to the bedroom from the adjoining bath. At the sound of her voice, the Doctor sat up from beneath the covers, where, she saw, he was reading an Agatha Christie mystery.  
"Rose," he smiled, putting the book down. It was only then that he realized she was crying. "Rose," he whispered tenderly, her name catching in his throat. He reached forward and pulled her onto the bed with him. "Tell me," he wiped away a falling tear with his right thumb.  
Though the tears had begun to subside, Rose found that she still could not speak. Instead, she gently took his hand from her face and slowly slid it downward; past her neck, over her breasts, Rose rested it over her stomach. Her slightly rounded stomach.  
"How long?" He asked quietly. Rose shook her head. She didn't know. The Doctor's mind was a whirlwind. He was going... or was he? It was possible that the child could be the Time Lord's. His other self's. The Doctor pushed the thoughts away. He was the Doctor. He was married to Rose Tyler. And yet... Pushing the thought aside, the Doctor smiled, burying his face into Rose's hair. He kissed her forehead, lightly trailing his lips down her face, hands resting on her belly.


	15. Jealousy

"You're jealous!" Rose couldn't believe it, her mouth quirking upward.  
"I am not! But in cas eyou hadn't noticed, this is a police box. Police Public Call Box, not snog box." The Doctor folded his arms and turned to face Rose, his head torch still shining.  
"We weren't - I kissed him. He kissed me! We weren't snogging!" Sometimes, the Doctor really got under her skin. "He is my boyfriend," she reminded him, crossing her arms.  
"He's an Idiot," he muttered, closing the floor grate and putting the torch back into his pocket.  
Rose stared at him. He was jealous. Of Mickey. Which meant... Rose's eyes widened. Slowly, she crept over to him. "Doctor," she began, when he suddenly bent down so that his passionate blue eyes were the same height as hers.  
"Rose," he murmured softly leaning forward and kissing her. Rose, her body automatically responding, kissed him back. She pulled him closer and whispered his name. Their lips moved against each other, trying and failing to synchronize their movements, each exploring the other. His hands encircled her waist, hoisting her on top of the TARDIS console. And hers, gripping his shoulders, liking the way they stuck to his leather jacket, pulling him closer.


	16. Bubbles

"Sort of domestic, this," the Doctor half-scowled. They were walking along a bubbling creek, its clear waters sparkling with reflections of the suns.  
"You picked the destination, remember? I was in the kitchen." Rose shook her head, smiling as she patted the picnic basket. "If you wanted adventure, you should've flown us somewhere else. Now, you're stuck here with me." She looked around, thinking about how pretty this planet was, with its turquoise creekbeds and silver-white trees. It almost looked too perfect, the trees growing parallel to the river on either side. "I think it's beautiful."  
Not as beautiful as you, the Doctor thought.  
They walked in silence, each content in their own little bubble (though they did have their hands linked, it was purely out of habit... partially, anyway). The Doctor found himself sneaking sideways glances at Rose, more and more frequently. Jus' want to make sure she's having a good time, he told himself, always quickly averting his gaze. He never saw Rose eyeing him in the same fashion.  
In time, the Doctor and his Rose came out to where the running water pooled into a still, serene lake. Reaching into his pocket, the Doctor pulled out a tightly folded package and unrolled it. He set the cabana up swiftly and unzippered the door.  
"There's a, uh, small selection of bathing suits from the TARDIS' closet in there if you feel like a dip," he said after a moment.  
"Mmmm, that does sound nice," Rose agreed. The riverside walk, while thoroughly pleasant, had very warm and she could feel small beads of perspiration beginning to run down her back. She lifted the flap out of the way and stepped inside. The cabana, like the TARDIS, was bigger on the inside. Rose looked at the variety of bathing suits and closed her eyes. With this much selection, she could afford to be picky. A white top, patterned with pink flowers came to mind and, upon opening her eyes, Rose found that she had a hunch as to where in the array she might find such a top. Sure enough, she found the same top, albeit with ruffles on the cups. Close enough. Grinning, Rose grabbed a plain white, high-waisted bottom. She changed quickly, eager to rejoin the Doctor. She slipped out and found that he was already standing in the water, his leather jacket neatly rolled up and sitting atop his trousers, beside his boots. Rose dropped the towel next to them and waded out to join the Doctor, where he was floating on his back in a pair of black swimming trunks. As she got closer, Rose realized they were covered in little yellow bananas.  
Rose leaned back, the salty water easily supporting her like a mattress. The bubbling water felt amazing against her back and she closed her eyes a moment, allowing to sensation to briefly occupy her full attention. Her hand drifted sideways and found the Doctor's, and they lay in the lake, staring (mostly) up at the alien sky.  
She sensed, rather than felt, the Doctor take her other hand and soon they were upright, though still buoyant. She leaned against him, momentarily wondering why the leather jacket wasn't sticking to her face, when she felt the Doctor's heartbeat against her cheek. It was odd, yet comforting pattern. He shifted and, perhaps it was because of the water's density or a hidden, unconscious desire, Rose wrapped her legs around the Doctor's waist to keep them from floating to the surface.  
The Doctor and Rose were in a very sensual, very compromising position.  
And his rough, chapped lips were pushing against her smooth, soft ones. He could taste her strawberry chapstick as he ran his tongue over her lips. His hands firmly grasped her bare shoulders as her arms encircled his naked waist. Their three hear beats accelerated in anticipation. She moaned, pulling him closer as their lips slid with their passion. She felt his breath hot on her face and breathed in deeply. He tasted like bananas, some distant part of her mind noted.  
Just as suddenly as it had started, it was over. Rose cuddled close to the Doctor, resting her head once more on his chest as they lay together in the warm aquamarine waters.


	17. Twice

“No! Doctor, stay with me!” Rose’s voice faltered. She clenched the Doctor’s hand in her own, practically lying on the bed with him.  
His weary eyes met her desperate ones. “We’ve had…a good life,” he murmured. “Lives…”  
Rose swallowed the lump that was rising in her throat. “Can’t argue that,” she replied shakily.  
He smiled at that. “Rose…” he hummed. She lay her head on his chest, listening to the pitiful beat that was his single heart.  
“I love you,” she said suddenly. “I always have, you know.” She stretched forward, lightly brushing her lips against his. He responded automatically, smiling.  
“I know.” He paused, shuddering through the drafty hospital gown, fighting for his breath. “Rose Tyler, I-” The heart monitor flat lined and Rose buried her face into his chest.  
“Doctor!” She kissed him wildly, running her lips over every inch going up to his face. “Doctor, come back! Come back!” She was quiet, her voice gradually rising into a panic. “DOCTOR!” Her lips became frantic, searching for a response, as the tears threatened to spill. She was vaguely aware that she was still screaming his name.  
They must have heard her. Suddenly, they were transferring him onto a stretcher. “No,” she sobbed, hiccoughing, blindly reaching for him.  
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Tyler. I’m afraid that Mr. Tyler has passed on,” the young physician told her. Rose heard the words, meaningless phrases. It meant nothing. She stared glassily at the…she couldn’t call the black woman a doctor.  
A nurse entered the room. His eyes went from the exiting stretcher to the physician to Rose. He started talking, but she couldn’t hear him. The tears spilled over and she left them comfort her. She had lost him, again. But this time, she had no one. Rose shattered.  
A/N: I’m sorry. I am so sorry. But once I started thinking about this, it had to be written. Obviously Tentoo and Rose, back in Pete’s world. And I had the thought, what if. And then I got to thinking more what if. What if Martha and Rory worked in the same hospital? Long shot, I know. But they never met the Doctor. They found jobs at the same hospital. What happened to all the companions that never were in the parallel world?


	18. Gravity

Harnessed to the interior of the TARDIS, Rose floated through space. Like her body, her mind was wandering; she marvelled at the colour and the stars and the sheer immensity of the empty space all around.  
“We're falling through space, you and me. Clinging to the skin of this tiny little world…” The memory filled her mind – for the briefest moment, Rose could almost smell the chips that had distracted her and the Doctor just after that.  
A sharp jerk on her line brought Rose back to the present. She spun around slowly twisting and began swimming back to the Doctor.  
She slowed a minute and grinned. Pushing her weight forward and down, Rose began summersaulting. She waited until she had reached a decent speed, then straightened briefly before smoothly vaulting forward, as if swinging off a rope (bronze in gymnastics, she thought briefly). Weightlessness was an amazing, indescribable sensation.  
It was only when she saw the TARDIS hurtling towards her that Rose realized exactly how fast she was moving. Her pupils dilated, her breath became ragged with fright. She was going to crash into the TARDIS.  
“Rose. Rose, oh come on.” A Northern accent, sharp with worry, faltered. A gentle, calming hum briefly filled the short silence. “Yes, I know it’s normal for a human. But what if there’s internal damage that’s not showing? What if I’ve lost her, Sexy? She’s not a normal human.”  
Her eyes would not open. She tried moving her lips, but only managed a faint moan. She swallowed. “Doc-tor.”  
Tell her, my Thief. The Doctor turned, electric blue eyes lighting up as he saw Rose finally awaken.  
“I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered, pulling her close. She said nothing, burying her face into his jumper.  
The Doctor was amazed how long she clung to him.  
He slowly brought his face down, even with hers. Cautiously, anxiously, and tenderly, he cupped her cheek and leaned even closer to her so that their foreheads touched. Her eyes were still cast downwards, but she titled her head back and brought her lips to his. It was a soft, yet passionate kiss and the sweetest moment he had ever experienced. It lasted forever and ended too soon.  
The TARDIS hummed contentedly, watching her (now healing) Wolf and her Thief.


	19. Windy Nights in an Oversized Coat

A/N: So for this one, I combined two prompts and had a longer story! Yay! Ten/Rose with Janto!  
Rose shivered, drawing her jacket tighter. “Remind me why you can’t just park in the Hub?” She chattered, longing for shelter from the storm.  
“Come on, it’s not that much further. Besides, I was under the impression you were dying to see Jack!” The Doctor whined, pulling Rose through the snow. “And I told you, I parked her on the Rift to re-fuel.” Nothing could spoil the Doctor’s sense of adventure.  
“Right now, I’m dying for a cup of Ianto’s coffee,” Rose grumbled good-naturedly. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief as she spotted the Tourism Centre, the front disguise of Torchwood Three. Another gust of bitter cold wind swept across the plaza, blowing the snow across the pavement and Rose found herself huddling against the Doctor’s long coat.   
“Oh, come here,” the Doctor opened the coat and Rose pressed herself tightly against his warm body, losing her balance as the lift began sinking beneath the pavement. He bent down, smoothing the hair out of her face, his fingers wet as the snow melted. Rose laughed and began running her fingers through his snow-soaked hair, slowly restoring it to its former state of sticking-uppy glory. His fingers trailed lightly down her face and Rose felt herself relax. She stretched up, standing on the tips of her toes so that her eyes were level with the Doctor’s, and grinned mischievously, her tongue poking out between her teeth. He slid his hand back up so that he was cupping her cheek and let the other drift to the small of her back. Their foreheads touched as they gazed at each other, their expressions simultaneously softening. Their lips had just met when the door began to roll open. Sighing slightly, Rose broke the (extremely) unchaste kiss, settling for grabbing his hand.  
The Hub was deserted, or so Rose assumed until the Doctor pointed out the mood lighting emulating from Jack’s office. Suddenly a klaxon sounded. Both Rose and the Doctor jumped (only slightly!) at the unanticipated noise, as the Doctor whipped out his screwdriver and turned it off just as the office door opened and Jack stepped out, hurriedly snapping his braces into place.  
“I think we might’ve interrupted something,” Rose giggled as the Doctor grinned and shouted hello.  
“Don’t you two ever call?” Jack skipped down the stairs.  
“TARDIS is refuelling,” the Doctor told him seriously.  
“Guess that means your mobiles are down,” Jack shot back, laughing. Ianto slipped out of the office and returned with a tray of drinks. He grabbed his own signature coffee, two mugs for himself and Jack, leaving the two teas for the Doctor and Rose. Ianto liked the duo well enough, but he couldn’t help but wonder why they never drank his coffee. Jack pecked his cheek as he handed over the coffee, and took a long drink.  
Rose shuddered, finally warming up, many thanks to the tea Ianto had brought. The Doctor was happily chatting to the other couple, telling of the more interesting places they’d visited since last time, though Rose’s shaking did not escape his notice. He frowned briefly, before taking the coat off and tucking it around Rose. She curled up against the Doctor, content to lay there and finish her tea while listening to the sound of her friends’ voices.  
When he had finally noticed that Rose had fallen asleep, the Doctor stood.  
“Leaving so soon?” Jack asked, surprised.  
“Long day,” the Doctor nodded at Rose. He scooped her up, coat and all, and exited the Hub. When he finally got to her bedroom back on the TARDIS, the Doctor hesitated briefly before tucking the sheets around her, still wrapped up in his coat.  
“Good night, Rose,” he murmured, kissing her forehead before heading off to his favourite chair in the library.


	20. Walking on Air

“Well?” The Doctor couldn’t help grinning at the sight of Rose’s expression.  
“It’s… surreal,” Rose marvelled. The planet had just enough gravity to retain its breathable atmosphere, but unless one was holding onto the ground, one would simply float higher into the sky (hence the reason both she and the Doctor were tethered to the TARDIS, as well has having a length of rope linking their feet. She spun around, twirling in the air like a ballerina, and crashed into the Doctor. “Sorry,” she giggled slightly.  
“S’okay,” he relaxed as she disentangled herself. She was exquisite, he thought, feeling his face redden slightly. Where had that come from? She was just an ape, a stupid ape as he himself had told her, not so long ago. And yet she made him feel something other than the guilt that the War had imprinted on him. She stirred up emotions that he thought had disappeared forever with the destruction of his planet. “Just make sure you don’t float off out the atmosphere. I don’t know that I could get the ARDIS up there before you suffocated.”  
“Like this,” she pursed her lips ‘innocently’, letting herself drift upwards.  
“Rose!” His previous train of thought was eradicated as he reached for the drifting human, genuine fear evident in his cracked voice. The Doctor grabbed her hand, pulling Rose back down. “I promised your mother you’d be safe,” he masked his own concern, hiding behind the promise that Jackie Tyler had extracted from him. I don’t want to lose you, he tried to tell her, the words stuck in his throat. The Doctor leaned towards Rose, intending to tell her just that. His nose brushed against her ear and he was hit with the powerful scent of Rose Tyler. She smelled… amazing. Steeling himself, the Doctor’s face drifted down and his lips lightly trailed across her cheek until they met hers, hovering over. He attempted those six words again, but his mouth wouldn’t form the words.  
Rose pressed her lips firmly against his. They collided haphazardly.  
Their legs became tangled and he squeezed her hand, interlocking their fingers together. One day, he’d tell her, he resolved. One day, Rose Tyler would know everything about the Doctor.


	21. The Endless and Faraway Sky

She didn’t let go of him, not once the entire trip back to the Tyler Estate from Darlig Ulv Stranden. The Doctor knew it shouldn’t have surprised him, but it did. Rose had spent five years in this parallel world, alone. And there had been no one else. He fingered the box in his pocket, remembering when he had first put it there, just before he lost her. How he had slipped it onto Donna’s finger, telling her it created a bio-dampener. How he had travelled to a forty-second century mining colony to find the perfect diamond and back to the fourteenth to have it forged. How he had had everything perfectly planned for her.  
His gaze wandered from Rose up to the window, to the stars. Stars that were now out of his reach. So many planets he hadn’t visited. So many more he wanted to show her.  
Rose nuzzled into his shirt and he dropped his gaze back to her. How he had missed her, his pink n yellow human.  
“Guess you’re stuck with me on this small, lunar planet,” Rose said softly.  
The Doctor smiled. “Stuck with you, that’s not so bad,” he replied, echoing her own statement. He didn’t mention the baby TARDIS.  
Rose grinned at the memory. “I hear they have nice dungeons in Cardiff,” she poked her tongue out.  
“Been there, done that,” he whispered huskily. Giving up the stars for this impossible, beautiful human would be far from easy, but he would do anything for her.  
Neither Rose nor the Doctor were aware that they had crawled into each others’ lap – they were melting in a deep, emotional kiss. However, Jackie refrained from commenting for almost the entire drive from Norway.  
“You’re going to need papers. You’re not going to get away with flashing blank ID at anyone here.”  
“Mmm…What?” He turned to face Jackie.  
“Papers. Social Security, driver’s licence, you know.” She clarified loudly.  
“Blank pa… how does she know about the psychic paper?” The Doctor turned to Rose, curious.  
“I might’ve tol her about some of our adventures,” Rose mumbled, her face still buried in his tee shirt.  
“Oh! Which ones? Did you talk about the gas mask zombies? The Gelth and Dickens? Slitheen in Downing Street?” The Doctor perked up. “I’ve got nine hundred years’ worth of stories. Where do you want to start. And don’t say the beginning. Where? Meeting Rose? Post-missed year?”  
“The beginning. You never did say where you were from.”  
And so, with a resigned sigh and both arms wrapped securely around his Rose, the Doctor began the tale of a foolish young Time Lord who ran away with his granddaughter in a stolen time machine.


	22. A Bit of Colour

Something old,  
Something new,  
Something borrowed,  
Something blue

She really had perfect timing. It was two weeks until he was going to marry his Rose and the TARDIS was fully mature. The young TARDIS could only handle a basic matrix and was currently showing the old, simplistic desktop; the Doctor felt as if he had stepped eight hundred years backwards in his life.  
“Hello Sexy,” he breathed, slowly walking around her. One trip without Rose, to test her, he told himself. Besides, there were a few things he needed to do to the TARDIS. Rose wouldn’t miss him, not tonight.  
Rose laughed, ascending the short staircase. “Doctor, we’re at the table,” She felt him lift the blindfold off her head.  
“I may have added an extra decoration,” he replied lightly.  
“That’s…how… Doctor that’s the TARDIS!” She gasped, hesitantly reaching out a hand to caress the wooden exterior.  
“Broken chameleon circuit and all,” the Doctor beamed. “Your better go get dressed and whatever else women do the morning of their wedding,” he squeezed her hand. “She’ll be waiting, after the party.”  
Rose pushed the Doctor against the door. “It’s perfect,” she breathed, before lightly pressing her lips to his. The Doctor sank into the kiss, closing his eyes and dreaming of all the places he would take her when a watch beeped. Rose broke it off, tilting her head and playfully smirking said; “Bad luck to see the bride before the aisle.” The doctor mashed his lips to her, briefly, before heading back to their separate rooms, lingering at the corner before turning.


	23. Just Like This

A/N: Something (hopefully) short and sweet to get back into the writing groove! It’s also a little continuation of the last shot.  
It was time. The officiant was looking at the Doctor expectantly when the sheer domesticity of what he was about to do hit him like a freak tidal wave. Rose clutched his hand reassuringly and gave it a gentle squeeze.   
For the third time in his long life, the Doctor was getting married. But this time, he felt as if he was floating. His face split into a wide grin as he spoke the two simple words that bound him to Rose Marion Tyler for the rest of his short human life.  
The Doctor and Rose Tyler. With the TARDIS. Like they should be.


	24. Photograph

“Where in all of time and space did you get this?” The Doctor picked the framed photo up off the nightstand, staring at it in awe.  
“Had a miniature in my pocket,” Rose grinned, remembering how Jackie Tyler had found the tiny picture and had had a five by seven copy made. That copy had been a permanent fixture beside her bed, that reminded her why she jumped dimensions. That she hadn’t imagined it – that she hadn’t imagined him.  
“Rose Tyler. All those pictures you took and this is the one you carry round?” He stared at the photograph, wincing slightly at the sight of his enormous ears.  
“Doctor, don’t you remember? That was the first time we got married!” Rose pecked his cheek, laughing as she replaced the photo onto the nightstand. The Doctor pulled her closer.  
“Course I remember,” he replied, lightly touching his mouth to hers.  
“What do you mean the two of you are married?” An incredulous voice came from the hall. The doorknob twisted and Jackie Tyler strode into the room. “Thought he said no domestics,” she began as the startled pair broke apart.


	25. Chains

A/N: So this is set immediately after ‘Dalek’ and before ‘The Long Game’.  
“Don’t lie to me, Doctor. What did that…that wretched man do to you?” Rose felt her voice ascend higher as she forced the word ‘man’ past her lips, if Henry van Statten could be called a man. Something terrible must have happened to the Doctor in that ‘collection’ of alien ‘artefacts’.  
“Rose. Jus’ leave it,” the Doctor gave Rose’s hand a quick squeeze before slowly turning back to the console and spinning the time rotor. “Where to next?” He winced as he reached for a lever.  
“Doctor, you can tell me,” Rose pressed. I need you to tell me.  
“You want to know? I was an alien in a madman’s collection of alien artefacts,” the Doctor said shortly.  
A Dalek chained to the floor, screaming with pain flashed through Rose’s memory. She drew a sharp, deep breath and clenched her fists. “Take us back,” she said tersely.  
“You want to go back? I thought we were leaving. Permanently.” A voice whined from the jump seat.  
Adam. Both Rose and the Doctor had temporarily forgotten about him.  
“You,” the Doctor said pointedly, “can shut it. Rose,” he turned his back on the boy. But Rose did not give the Doctor a chance to finish his sentence. She closed the gap between the two of them and tilted her head so that she was looking him directly in the eye.  
“I thought I was going to lose you because of him,” she said quietly, Cockney accent thickened.  
A wave of emotions hit the Doctor as she said that. “Same thought might’ve crossed my mind,” he admitted, sounding gruff trying to mask the pain that thought had caused with his Northern accent, before bending down and gently kissing her.  
She responded with passion, backing the Doctor up against the wall. His hands trailed up and entangled into her hair while Rose’s arms were wrapped tightly around his waist.  
Adam tried clearly his throat several times, but Rose and the Doctor were lost in their own private bubble.


	26. Vaseline

A/N: New chapter! As always, please, please leave a review or message me!  
“Do you have any Vaseline?” Rose padded into the console room, a robe tied hastily over her pajamas.  
“How should I know?” The Doctor stopped tinkering with the console and turned to face his companion. “What do you want with that stuff, anyway?”  
“Lips are chapped,” Rose turned back into the hall, opening doors to determine the probability of Vaseline being present.  
“There might be some in the infirmary,” the Doctor spoke up from behind her. Rose jumped. “Sorry. Just thought of it. Didn’t mean to startle you.” His eyes met Rose’s and smiled kindly.  
“No, it’s fine. Thank you. Guess the wind was a bit much,” she mentioned conversationally.  
“Did you like it?” The Doctor’s voice changed, his Northern accent thickening, speaking gruffly.  
“It was beautiful! I’ve never seen anything like it before. Woman’s Wept. Such a sad name for a beautiful planet.” Rose reminisced, thinking about the glaciered sphere.  
“It’s one of my favourites,” the Doctor admitted quietly.  
“Have you even changed into dry clothes since we got back?” Rose inspected the Doctor, her brow furrowed in concern.  
“I changed my jumper,” he replied, half defensive, half joking. “And socks. Wet socks aren’t any fun.”  
“I guess I ought to check the infirmary for that Vaseline cuz neither are chapped lips,” Rose remembered.  
“Might not be Vaseline,” the Doctor looked up from the console again. “I mean, it’d be the same stuff, just not from Earth. Hence the different name.”  
“Thanks,” Rose grinned impulsively, grabbing his hand as they entered the hallway (entirely unconscious of the action). The Doctor curled his fingers around hers (a simple, habitual occurrence that has saved a companion’s life, more than once – or so he told himself) as he led her round the first corner.  
Entering the infirmary, the Doctor immediately headed for the shelves lining the far wall. Scanning the contents, he handed Rose a small emerald bottle. “Fill the eyedropper and rub it into your lips.”  
Rose unscrewed the top and filled the dropper. “No, no! You don’t need so much. Here,” the Doctor emptied the dropper until it was less than a quarter full. “Now, don’t go using your finger. Let the ‘Vaseline’ soak into the skin.” The Doctor allowed another smile to crack his outer shell. “You liked it there today? In a few centuries, the entire planet becomes a tourist attraction famous in several star systems.”  
“Don’t tell me it gets all built up. I couldn’t stand hearing that that picturesque planet get reduced to a pile of alien trash and pollution and economies and everything. It’s perfect.” Rose shook her head.  
“I had a fantastic time today, ‘Dame Rose’.” The Doctor had, of course, gotten involved in a (thankfully small) local dispute. However, part of that dispute had (well, it had been the only way to end it, really) to declare Rose Tyler as his wife. Sir Doctor and Dame Rose of Tyler Estate. His eyes had widened slightly at the psychic paper’s declaration, but had had no choice but to go along with it.  
“As did I, ‘Sir Doctor’.” Rose grinned at the memory. She leaned in to give him a quick hug. The Doctor automatically wrapped his arms around her and, surprising them both, kissed her forehead. “Feels like you could use some of this stuff,” Rose teased him as his lips lightly scraped her skin.  
She stood on her toes, trying to match his height. Rose pressed her greased lips to his dry ones. They slid unevenly over the rough, chafed skin, getting caught on a particularly damaged piece. She nuzzled her lips on that spot, moisturizing it. Rose’s eyes widened and she quickly stepped away.  
“Reckon there’s enough left in the dropper,” she muttered awkwardly, hand absently retying her robe.  
“Yeah,” the Doctor spun the time rotor. “I’ll just drop us back into the vortex…”


	27. Warmth

“Are you all right, Doctor?” Rose asked the shaking half-Time Lord.  
“Yeah, absolutely. Brilliant, in fact,” he replied through his chattering teeth, though he was inwardly cursing his fragile human body.  
“Kay…” Rose smiled knowingly, her tongue poking out as she tried to keep from laughing at the Doctor’s predicament.  
“Rose!” He whined.  
“Yes, Doctor?” She kept her back turned and purposely kept her stride steady. “Lovely day for a walk, isn’t it? Though I’m glad you warned me about the climate,” Rose teased, pulling her scarf from around her flushed neck. The Doctor had finally caught up to her, removing his frozen hand from his pocket to hold Rose’s gloved one. “Honestly, what would you do without me,” she asked him, laughing as she wrapped her own scarf around the Doctor’s neck. Rose froze as soon as the full meaning of what she had just said hit her, and drew a deep breath.  
“Oh, Doctor,” she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder, “I’m sorry.”  
He knew immediately that she was referring to his Time Lord self in the other universe.  
“I’m sure he’s fine. Travelling the universe. Finding new planets. Meeting new people. Same old life.” He ran his thumb across her face, wiping away the spilling tear before it froze.  
Her last conversation with the Time Lord ran through Rose’s mind. He needs you. That’s very me.  
“Rose. Rose, look at me.” Her Doctor’s voice brought her back to the present. He was holding both of her hands in his, pressed against their chests. Rose was very aware of the single heartbeats thrumming. “He’s fine. The pain dulls over time until he’s left with just the good memories. Until all of the memories are fond recollections. And he keeps meeting new people and making new memories.”  
“He’s hiding ten lifetimes of pain under travelling? No wonder you never mention anyone from your past,” Rose replied quietly as the Doctor unlocked the TARDIS.  
He paused, arms falling to his side from the coat rack.  
“You met Sarah Jane…” he said weakly.  
“I spoke with her. You never told me anything.” Rose smiled sadly. “Sarah Jane swapped stories with me.” She reached into a cupboard, pulling out a towel and beginning to dry herself.  
“Rose…” he waited as she turned back to face him. “I’ll tell you everything. But not like this.” He noticed that she was still shaking and led her to the pool.  
He waded into the warm water, still in his pants and tee shirt, pulling Rose with him. “It’s okay,” he murmured, gently pressing his lips to her forehead.  
Rose wrapped her legs around his waist and leaned on his shoulder. “Yeah?” She asked quietly.  
“Yeah. Promise. Cross my hearts, Rose. Well, that is to say heart. I only have one of those, remember.” The Doctor cut his babbling and floated onto his back, pulling Rose with him. He rested her lightly above his chest and gazed lovingly into her eyes, before dipping forward in the warm water, his face reaching out towards hers, his lips lightly brushing her cheek, her nose, down her throat.


	28. Daybreak

Rose awakened, slowly pulling herself from the pile of blankets heaped over her bed. Groaning, she rolled over and looked at the clock, which read 6:45. Rose was about to fall back asleep when she realized that this was her bedroom in her Mum’s flat, not the TARDIS. Eyes flying open, she bolted upright and flew out the door, sighing in relief when she saw the space timeship standing in the living room beside the telly. Rose took the chain from around her neck and had just stuck the key into the lock when she saw something move in the kitchen. Jackie, Rose knew, would still be sleeping, and she had been sure that her mother had thrown Jim out of the house for good.  
“Morning!” The Doctor said cheerfully, throwing a newspaper onto the table from where he was leaning against the counter.  
“It’s seven in the morning! What are you doing in the flat’s kitchen?” Rose asked, sidling past him to the table. “What you doing the flat?”  
“I made flapjacks,” he announced smugly, uncovering the plate.  
Rose raised her eyebrow at that. “Sort of domestic, this,” she snickered, reaching for a pancake anyway.  
“Oi. No need to get insulting. I knew you wouldn’t like it if I went off without you. Besides, you doesn’t like pancakes?” The Doctor countered, folding his arms and leaning back again. “S’not like we don’t have them all the time, anyway.”  
“Not in my mum’s flat, we don’t.” Rose sighed happily as she bit into the pancake. “I see you’ve got out all the works,” she ran her eyes over the table, looking at all of the toppings: bananas (of course), strawberries, whipped cream, maple syrup, and all the alien ones that had no Earthly counterpart.  
“You’re up early Rose,” Jackie yawned, entering the small kitchen. “What are you doing in my kitchen?” Her eyes landed on the Doctor. “Do you ever sleep? Or do you just leave her and come back immediately? And what’s all this?”  
“Mum, the Doctor’s made flapjacks.” Rose tried diffusing the growing tension.  
There was no stopping Jackie’s distaste for the alien. “At seven in the morning?” She shook her head. “I’m going back to bed. But don’t you even think about slipping off without a proper goodbye,” she eyed the Doctor, who quietly muttered something along the lines of ‘we’ll see’.  
“Well, I thought they were lovely.” Rose leaned against the countertop next to the Doctor, who was staring down the hall after Jackie.  
“I think she’s warmed up to me.” He grinned cheekily. “No slap.”  
“Watch it, or she’ll come back,” Rose bantered. “It might only be seven but there’s no way I’m back to bed. What’s on for today?” She teased, knowing full well that the Doctor never ended up where he wanted to go.  
“Haven’t used the Randomizer in a while. What?” He asked indignantly as Rose scoffed.  
“Nothing,” Rose kissed his cheek, still giggling. The Doctor’s hearts fluttered as she yawned, pulling away from him and propping her arm on the counter. He desperately wanted to pull her close again, never mind the domesticity of it all.  
The sun streamed into the little kitchen, casting a perfect silhouette onto the wall.


	29. Daydream

You’ve got that James Dean, daydream, look in your eye;  
And I got that red lip, classic thing that you like.  
And when we go crashing down, we come back every time,  
Cuz we never go out of style (out of style).

He’d catch himself staring at her. Running round the console, looking at her the entire time that he was piloting the ship. He’d never had a companion like her. Rose Tyler was unique and, even if she didn’t quite believe it herself, special. And so, whenever anybody tried to take advantage of her in any way, the Doctor would take her hand in his own, all the while still conversing, still exploring, still investigating.

The worst (best) of it happened when they had landed in London (well, Cardiff) in 1860 (3, but who’s keeping track?) – she had looked absolutely stunning and he’d flat out told her, his voice marvelling at her radiance.

Of course, he’d be the last to admit to daydreaming. About a human, no less. But she crept into his thoughts when he’d least expect it. He’d make a comment, compliment her, and backtrack, half-retracting his statement, half uttering pure nonsense. She made his head spin in the best way possible, she had, quite literally, rejuvenated him. No longer the One who broke the promise, he was once again the Doctor. He was on the way to healing. And Rose Tyler had started the process.  
Rose jumped slightly as the Doctor suddenly pulled her into a hug. “Blimey, what’s that for, then, Doctor?”

But the Doctor, not one to talk about his emotions, did not verbally answer her question. Letting it go, Rose rested her head on his shoulder, inhaling his scent and sighing happily. At the end of the day, this is where she was happiest. With the man she was growing to love (even if she wasn’t ready to admit it to herself just yet).

He kissed her head softly, his nose and mouth buried in her loose hair. This was better than any dream.


	30. Heat Wave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Just a quick note to let you know that I have not abandoned this fic! I’ve been super busy over the past month, finishing my exams in April and looking for a job all May. While I’ve found some time to write, I’ve been too busy (and a bit procrastinate-ive) to post.  
> And so, without further ado, I present Heat Wave, Just Waiting, Eyes, and Stolen Moments.

“Hurry up then. Sooner we get to the TARDIS, sooner we can leave this planet,” the Doctor glanced, concerned, at his companion.

“Next time, we check the local weather patterns, yeah?” Rose replied, pulling her sleeves up past her elbows while privately wondering how the Doctor could stand wearing black leather in this heat.

“And take half the adventure out of this? No thanks, mate.” His manic grin returned, albeit briefly.  
“Yeah, well, maybe if someone was a better pilot the heat would be a bit more bearable,” Rose muttered under her breath, pausing to wipe her perspiring brow. She blinked blearily. “How far to the TARDIS?”

“Not far now.” The Doctor smiled cheerfully. “Tell you what. Straight to the pool to cool off, followed by banana milkshakes and Disney movies.”

Rose laughed, though her exhaustion was becoming more noticeable. “That’s a date,” she replied cheekily, grabbing the Doctor’s cool hand in her own slick one.

“Don’t make it sound so domestic,” he shuddered theatrically, when he felt her hand go limp.

“No, no, no.” He muttered frantically, catching her as she crumbled towards the uncaring ground; the Doctor sprinted to the TARDIS, not allowing the heat to affect him, carrying Rose bridal style to the infirmary where, thanks to the ship’s telepathy, smelling salts and two glasses of ice water were waiting.

“What happened?” Rose had regained consciousness, but was still dazed.

“In simplest terms, you overheated.” The Doctor passed her one of the waters with instructions to sip at it slowly.

 

Later, she curled up next to him on the sofa, banana shakes in hand, as he read aloud from ‘Great Expectations’.

“Thanks for looking out for me earlier,” Rose mumbled sleepily.

“Anytime Rose,” he answered lightly, putting the novel on the table. “Now to bed with you. No use wasting more time than necessary – you lot are liable to spend over half your lives sleeping as it is.”

“Mm,” was her only response, her head resting on his chest.

The Doctor gave an exaggerated sigh at the domesticity of the situation, before pulling Rose closer. Immediately, he noticed that she was shaking. The TARDIS, darling ship that she was, had already moved Rose’s comforter to the library couch. The Doctor gently tucked the blanket around his fragile pink and yellow human.

“Good night Rose,” he smiled softly, his eyes and heart full of love.

“Good night, my Doctor,” Rose murmured, her lips ghosting over his before her head returned to his chest.


	31. Just Waiting

He’d known the day that they’d met that Rose Tyler was special. She had immediately proved herself to be a quick thinker, a compassionate person, and she had yet to fail him. And, day after day, the Doctor felt her stealing his hearts. By their third or fourth adventure together, he was besotted. He buried his emotions, wearing his corny grin and leather jacket as armour. He told himself that he wasn’t scared of love, convinced himself that he was simply waiting for the perfect moment to tell her, all the while falling head over heels.  
Every chance he had, the Doctor told Rose that she was fantastic. He realized that, by waiting (putting off) to say the words, that he had already told her his feelings. That he had, in fact, already shown her that he was in love; by constantly commending her, dancing with her during the Blitz, how he had forgiven her when she admitted her mistakes, and, of course, every single time they embraced.

His reverie was broken by the appearance of the blonde human in question. “Thanks for waiting.” She kissed his cheek before turning to drape her jacket on the coral. “Where’re we off to?” Rose smiled in anticipation, her tongue poking out.

The Doctor grinned maniacally. “Let’s find out,” he exclaimed, rushing about the console.

“You think you’re so impressive,” Rose shook her head, giggling.

“I am so impressive,” the Doctor whined gruffly. “To the wardrobe with you, then.”


	32. Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is based on a song by the Who called Behind Blue Eyes and I highly recommend you listen to it before reading. See end notes for more.

Rose had never met anyone as contradictory as the Doctor. The man who had swept her off her feet the moment they’d met. The man who vehemently protested domesticity, yet cooked banana pancakes every week. His icy blue eyes that melted and softened when he looked at her. She had, on more than one occasion, gotten lost gazing into the Doctor’s eyes; his eyes showcased his every emotion. Eyes so expressive, Rose sometimes imagined ocean waves floated across his emotions. Anger that broke the wave crest yet deep and still in his pensiveness.

Rose became vaguely aware of the Doctor pulling her up from the jump seat. He wrapped his arm around her waist and she leaned heavily against his side. The Doctor thought about saying something about humans and their (frankly ridiculous) sleep cycles, but Rose Tyler’s half-closed soft hazel eyes distracted him. He carried her slowly down the corridor to her bedroom and pulled the bedspread back, supporting the sleeping blonde on his knee. The Doctor removed Rose’s shoes and draped the blanket around her. Hesitantly, he stroked her hair back, drew a deep breath through his nose to steady himself and softly kissed her forehead.  
Rose sighed in contentment when she felt the Doctor’s lips brush her skin, a smile forming as she felt him relax beside her. She snuggled as close to his upright frame as she could, absently lacing her fingers through his.

There were sixty-two thousand seventy hundred ninety-four reasons why he shouldn’t stay (Jackie Tyler accounting for roughly forty-two thousand six hundred and five). Rose’s relaxed semi-conscious smile and her hand holding his, showed the Doctor the only reason that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is intended to be the first time they share a bed while on the TARDIS. NinexRose is my ultimate OTP, if you hadn't noticed.
> 
> Regarding the Who song, there are some major differences (such as my dreams they aren't as empty/as my conscience seems to be) but the mood fits Nine very well.


	33. Stolen Moments

She could feel it in her bones. This, after so many failed attempts, was home. The Doctor had definitely been here recently, Rose thought, half-ecstatic at landing in the right universe, half-dismayed she had missed the Doctor. She desperately wished that she had her super mobile; however, Torchwood hadn’t allowed anything non-regulation to be taken during a jump. As she walked the street, Rose spotted a newspaper rolling in the wind. Unfurling it, she immediately noted the year. 2015. Even by the other universe’s standards, this was the future. She deliberated her plan briefly, and, folding the paper over her arm, Rose entered a nearby phone box. She couldn’t help feeling nostalgic as she stepped through the door into the red public call box. Taking a deep breath, Rose picked up the receiver and dialled the operator.

“Um, hello?” She asked uncertainly.

“Operator,” was the sole reply.

“Yes, hello, I’d like to make a collect call.” Rose recited the telephone number she’d memorized. Had that really been only three years ago (by her standards, of course)? She held her breath, not daring of raising her hopes, even when the line began to ring.

“TARDIS. If you’re looking for the Doctor, he’s…otherwise engaged at the moment. If this is Mum or Dad, leave a message and I’ll phone you before he drops me off to the prison,” a strange woman’s voice narrated the answering machine. Rose said hello, but hung up as her voice cracked, the tears spilling over. It was stupid to think that he wouldn’t have changed the message. But it had been the time and space ship. The woman in the recording had said so. Rose leaned against the glass wall of the phone box and wiped her eyes, determination setting in once more.

“Yes, yes, who is this?” An impatient Scottish voice answered.

“Is, is the Doctor there?” Rose asked, her voice steadying as she drew a deep breath, her Cockney accent still pronounced with emotion.

“This is a Doctor,” the voice replied reservedly.

“Right, yes, well, I’m looking for someone specific,” Rose poked her tongue in an unconscious nervous, yet hopeful, smile.

 

On the TARDIS, the Doctor was a nervous wreck, Clara noticed. Whomever he was speaking with on the phone must be extremely important; the Doctor was taking large, awkward steps around the console as they conversed and his voice was unusually steady. He didn’t seem to know what to do with his spare hand, running it through his silver hair, changing his mind and clenching his fingers around the railings. Finally, he (rather reluctantly) hung up the phone, concentrating solely upon piloting his ship.

“What’s this, then? Double adventure Wednesday?” Clara joked, briefly drawing the Doctor’s attention away from the ship. “Where are we going?” She asked more softly upon seeing her friend’s face.

“London.” He brushed Clara’s questions off, being intentionally vague.

“Double trouble today, then? Swell.” Clara smiled hopefully, but the Doctor wouldn’t meet her eyes.

 

Rose dared not believe her ears. It couldn’t be as simple as a single phone call. The key around her neck grew hot as the noise stopped and Rose was all but throwing herself at an old-fashioned police telephone box. She pressed her hand reverently against the faded panels before pulling open the door.

 

Clara had been about to confront the Doctor when the door opened. “Don’t you need a key” she began.  
Rose had been ready for him not to recognize her. To be a younger Doctor than her pinstriped Doctor. She’d been prepared for that. She hadn’t expected him to sweep her off her feet the moment she entered the room. She hadn’t anticipated responding to him by burying her face in his neck as he nestled his in her hair.

“Rose Marion Tyler,” the Scottish voice murmured softly.

“My Doctor,” she smiled, resting her hand against his chest and feeling his double heartsbeat.

For a tenth of a second, he considered it. As tempting as it was for her to stay, his past was fixed. This was bonus, this was extra. This was the Time Lord’s stolen moment from his past, his chance to fix one last mistake. And so, while she was still here, the Doctor swallowed his fear and cowardice that still lingered after so many centuries, and told her, not only of his long dormant yet passionate feelings for her. He told her his name. Something that nobody who was alive knew. Rose only smiled and told him that ‘Doctor’ was the only name she’d ever needed.

He lingered after she left the TARDIS. Watched as she used the dimension hopper to return to Pete’s World. Remembered the events that had transpired two lifetimes ago. And found that somehow, despite spending over a thousand years apart and only being with her for two years, this pink and yellow human still held the keys to his hearts.


	34. Vin Rouge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this story is inspired by a photo manipulation. http://tinyurl.com/qd677u5 except I thought that for this story Rose needed a different dress: http://tinyurl.com/pflux6t  
> The Tchaikovsky dance (Waltz of the Flowers): http://tinyurl.com/ap33yps  
> The Paderewski nocturne: http://tinyurl.com/lo9t4mp  
> Without further ado, I present Vin Rouge.

“You look beautiful,” the Doctor whispered softly as Rose entered the console room. She giggled softly, putting her hand to her face.

“I don’t think that I’ll ever get used to that closet,” Rose laughed, shaking her head, her blonde curls swinging across her face. “So you think you can ballroom dance? You could barely move without stepping on my toes when we picked Jack up.”

“I’ll show you my moves,” the Doctor replied huskily, offering Rose his arm, who hesitated briefly before taking it. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Really.” Rose smiled at the Doctor. “S just a bit strange, seeing you without your jacket, ta? Oh, you know what I mean,” she smacked his arm lightly. “Never been with you and you didn’t have the leather jacket with you.” Changing the subject, Rose waved to Jack, who had clearly come just from the wardrobe, looking almost as dashing as the Doctor.

“I’d like to see the Doc without his jacket,” the ex-conman winked. “Or maybe wearing it with some matching leather pants.”

The Doctor let Jack’s innuendo (no doubt the first of many) slide, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “Don’t you go bringin’ strays back with you,” he told the Captain sternly.

“Yes, sir.” Jack snapped off a mock salute. Privately, he hoped that tonight would be when his friends finally… danced.

“So, are aliens here or something?” Rose asked, confused as the Doctor pulled her towards the dance floor.

“Just three,” he replied cheekily.

“Right. You, me, and Jack, yeah?” Rose scanned the crowd. “They look human enough.”

“They look Time Lord enough too, on the outside.” The Doctor countered, beginning an effortless gavotte in duple metre; Rose, however, was still questioning why they were at the dance hall if nothing unusual was about to occur. Sensing that Rose was still anxious, the Doctor pulled her closer. The music began anew, a waltz. The Doctor smiled, noting the appropriateness of the Tchaikovsky dance.

One-two-three. Dancing with Rose was effortless. Their rhythms were perfectly synchronized with not only each other (which, he thought privately, must be because of all the running they did together), but with the music as well. Together, they glided across the dance floor and Rose leaned against the wall, her smile blinding.

“Just want to catch my breath a moment. Dancing is far more exhausting than the constant running for our lives,” she joked as the Doctor passed her a glass of red liquid. Rose sipped the wine, savouring the berry flavours, acutely aware of the Doctor’s arm still around her waist.

The Doctor could see the timelines diverging. If he acted, he could choose which path time took; one path would open possibilities he had only dreamed of thus far. If he acted, he could decide which direction his life went. The last Lord of Time saw his futures and pushed his time senses aside. For the first time since he regenerated, since he ended the War, the Doctor refused even the smallest glimpse of whatever consequences were coming.

He pulled Rose close again, defying any concept of personal space. Her arms automatically wrapped themselves around his waist and they were once more ready to dance.

The slow Polish nocturne was a perfect blend of melancholy and amour, the Doctor thought as Rose rested her head on his shoulder. As the music approached its end, the Doctor felt Rose’s head lift from his shoulder, her warm brown eyes affectionately meeting his. Their foreheads touched briefly as the Doctor bent so that they were at eye level.

“Rose Tyler,” he whispered gravelly. Blue eyes locked with brown; both pairs gazing lovingly into the other. Rose and the Doctor simultaneously moved closer. Her breath was hot and he revelled in her scent. Her bottom lip curled as she bit it and her smile was dazzling.

He traced her lips with his tongue, poking inside briefly. Rose gently bit down on his tongue, bringing their faces closer once more. She could feel his double heartbeat through his suit, and rested her hands on either side of his chest. Her eyes shone brightly, full of love.

Neither Rose nor the Doctor noticed Jack holographically recording them with his vortex manipulator. “These two are so sweet,” Jack smiled fondly, watching a moment longer before disappearing back into the crowd.


	35. Clock

“What is that doing in here?” The Doctor made a face of disgust.

“It’s a pear, Doctor,” Rose said slowly, amused by the Doctor’s shenanigans. She had forgotten how… eccentric he could be about little things.

“I know it’s a pear, Rose. That’s why I asked what it’s doing in your kitchen.”

“Pete has a tree in the yard.” Rose didn’t understand how five hours ago she’d said goodbye, forever, to the love of her life, and was now discussing pears, of all things, with the same man.

The Doctor’s frown deepened and his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“What’s wrong?” Rose hesitantly reached out and touched his forearm.

“I… I don’t know what time it is. I can’t feel the Earth turning. My chest… it’s so empty. That’s me now, I suppose. Human. Well, part human. One heart,” the Doctor said in disbelief, “it’s like half of myself is gone.” He pulled Rose closer and she rested his hand over her own single heart.

“Heard a story once. Don’t remember where, think a friend told me she heard it at camp or something. People have two eyes, two lungs, two arms, legs, that sort of thing. They also used to have two hearts. An’ I don’t remember the next bit, but they were separated and had to find the soul carrying their other half.”

“Are you suggesting that you’re my ‘other half’?” The Doctor’s voice quavered slightly, though Rose detected it immediately.

“All I’m saying is that I think our room needs a clock.” Rose said quietly, her hands moving to the Doctor’s neck, pulling him down to her height.

“Rose Tyler.” The Doctor’s breath was cool on her lips.

“My Doctor,” Rose sucked his upper lip and kissed him passionately, leaving no distance between them. And while neither of them had a clock, both were presentable at dinner table later that evening, albeit arriving slightly late.


	36. Haunted

The memory of Rose Tyler haunted the Doctor. She would burst through his mental barriers at the most inopportune moments, nothing but a memory yet so much more powerful, regardless of whether he was in the library by himself or out adventuring with his companions. The first time, he had relived their entire time together. Flashes of Charles Dickens and Slitheen and nanogenes filled his immense mind – any space not occupied by Rose Tyler was quickly filled. The Doctor could not bear to lock away the memories, and so slumped to the floor, a broken man, each time this happened.

Martha had never found him like this, though she had seen him red-eyed and tired upon occasion when he entered the galley after an episode, desperately trying for a nonchalant expression as he rummaged around for a banana. But now, Martha too was gone. Though he had enjoyed their travels together, the Doctor had been horrified to realize that he was slightly glad that she had left. Martha, though a brilliant friend, had just entered his life too soon after losing Rose.  
Donna, on the other hand, walked right into an episode the day after they had visited Pompeii. Donna sat with him as he cried in silence, her head resting comfortingly on his shoulder. The Doctor, being the rude and not ginger person that he was, never acknowledged Donna’s support, preferring instead, to pretend that he never curled up into the tightest ball possible and cried his eyes out; he always came bouncing back to the console room, pressing buttons and spinning dials with a flourish, promising grand adventures.  
Though he never admitted it, going back to New Earth had drained him. Never before had he not appreciated a second adventure on a planet, but his first visit to New Earth had been too recent. Rose had been too recent.

When he regenerated a violent regeneration and destroyed the console, the TARDIS had repaired it herself to its former state of organic glory. Now a new man, the sight of the room still triggered painful memories of friends lost. Memories of a fiery redhead, a brilliant doctor, an immortal ex-conman, and… the Doctor, even while he was irrevocably changing, could not bear to remember the loss that had plagued him for the years past, the loss that he himself had ensured was now permanent.   
As he regenerated, his mind clung to a memory now two lifetimes ago. Exchanging physical pain for mental, the Doctor re-lived the first time he had kissed Rose Tyler. The first time he had kissed her, he had sent her away. A brief kiss on her forehead about as far from intimate as possible. A kiss that could have led to something more, had he not regenerated, had he not lost her, had he not sent her away with the Metacrisis. He had seen the timelines and had he not been the coward he was, she would be with him still. Of course, it was more complex than that, but really, that’s what it boiled down to. As the fiery pain left the Doctor’s body, the mental pain failed to subside and the Eleventh Doctor realized that, no matter what happened, he would always love Rose and he would forever be haunted by her loving memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The Parting of the Ways, Minute 14:07


	37. Teaching

“It takes so much more than simple concentration to be able to do this. I don’t even know if I would be able to anymore, even.” The Doctor was aware that he was babbling in his explanation, and most likely adding extraneous detail. He glanced down at Rose, who was nestled against his side on the sofa in Pete’s rec room; Rose lifted her head, compassionate hazel eyes meeting ancient chocolate ones.

“I hope that’s not your proposal,” Rose whispered, her eyes dancing with humour. “All you ever needed to do was ask, like this: Doctor, will you be my bondmate?” Rose was completely serious, all traces of laughter vanished, replaced by an earnest yearning.

“Life’s better with two,” the Doctor recalled Rose’s words, paraphrasing. “Rose, do you remember our first trip to Platfrom One? The psychic paper read ‘The Doctor Plus One’.” He slid to the floor, pulling out the ring that his other self had given him on the beach. “Will you be my bondmate, Rose Marion Tyler? My wife, my ‘Plus One’ as long as we both shall live?”

“Yes, of course. I love you,” Rose whispered tenderly.

“I’m going to initiate the engagement bond. I should be Time Lord enough to do this,” the Doctor touched Rose’s temple and attempted to open his mind. Instantly, pink and golden threads were caressing his mind, threads filled with love and trust. He explored Rose’s mind while his fingers became reacquainted with her body. (Reacquaintment became full snogging as the lovers became more mentally intimate.) He would, the Doctor realized, have to teach Rose to put up barriers in her mind. This thought was immediately protested. Rose threw her life’s memories at the Doctor. Her first day at school, meeting Mickey, the entire mess that was her two years with Jimmy Stone, working at Henrick’s, and finally, the shop exploding.

‘Lived everything else with you,’ Rose mentally shrugged. ‘Don’t need any barriers now.’ Rose could still feel his uncertainty and she kissed him tenderly, reassuring (after a few failed attempts) touching his mind.


	38. Virtual Reality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found the idea for this prompt at http://whatwecanfic.tumblr.com/post/125790221057/prompt#notes

Rose awoke suddenly, straining against the restraints that bound her hands and feet. “Doctor?” She called, hoping that whomever had captured them hadn’t separated the pair. Immediately, a nurse was at her bedside. “You’re awake! This is great, do you know where you are? Do you know who you are?” He asked her calmly; his professionalism and relaxing demeanor doing nothing to soothe Rose’s agitation.

“Course I do!” Rose’s shock at his question was obvious. “Where’s the Doctor?” She asked urgently.

“He’ll be in shortly. ‘Tyler’ is near the end of the alphabet, so you’re at the end of his list.” The nurse said soothingly.

His list? Were they undercover? Rose was faintly aware that the nurse had disappeared. She ripped an IV from her arm and tried to sit up; she thought that she could hear her mum’s voice from the corridor.

“Hello Rose,” Jackie’s voice was overly-cheerful. “How’s my beautiful girl today? I’ve brought a friend – do you remember Mickey?” Rose could only gape at her mother in bewilderment; the light dissipated from Jackie’s eyes and she smiled sadly. “Oh, sweetheart.” Mickey wrapped an arm around Jackie’s shoulder as a tear slipped down her face. 

“She can’t even recognize me,” she sobbed.

“Another bad day?” Rose fought the restraints, her eyes wildly searching for the owner of that Northern accent.

“Doctor!” His name burst from her lips. He smiled, scribbling notes on his clipboard. If they were undercover, why was he observing her, Rose wondered.

“I don’t think it’s a good day, Mrs. Tyler,” the Doctor was (apparently) finished observing her. Jackie began to cry again and Mickey escorted her out.

“Thanks for all you’ve done, Doctor Foreman,” Mickey’s voice was laced with gratitude. Since when did they get on so well? Rose thought, her disconcertment growing stronger.

“Doctor?” She queried, her eyes still watching where her mum had left.

“Do you know who you are?” The Doctor repeated the nurse’s question, slowly.

“What kind of a question do you call that? Why am I strapped down in a mental institution? Other than maybe we’re undercover, how come Mickey and my Mum are here?” Rose stared at the Doctor. “What happened? We were dancing with Jack, then we went to bed and I woke up here!”

The Doctor simply handed her a pill. “If you don’t take it now, it’ll be ground into your next meal,” he said briskly. The Doctor suddenly crackled, like the static from a television, and he flickered. He left the room, his white coat pixelated.

Though Rose still didn’t know where she was, she began to suspect that it was not a mental institution. She hid the pill under the bedsheet and studied the room. It didn’t feel right. She experimentally tapped the wall, looking for the same effect that had been on this ‘Doctor’s’ coat. Rose could feel her arm move, could feel the wall beneath her fingertips, but her arm was still firmly encased in the metal band. She explored the wall, her arm moving yet still restricted.

“Rosie!” A voice shouted. Jack. “Rose, where are you?”

“Jack! I’M IN HERE! Jack!” Rose called frantically. The ex-conman was at her side in moments. “How is it that I’m locked in a mental institution when we were just on the TARDIS? There wasn’t even a teleport! Parts of- of space are pixelated, like they’re not even there, and my mum was here and the Doctor. The Doctor is a psychiatric doctor?”

“None of it’s real. Rose, you can get up and just walk away. It’s all in your mind. The people who actually run this place trap people in their own minds.” Jack took Rose’s hand.   
“There is nothing stopping you from leaving.” Rose trusted Jack, and so, ignoring the sensation of not moving, ignoring the sensation of metal bands pressing against her body, Rose got to her feet and took a deep breath to re-orient herself.

The ex-Time Agent touched his vortex manipulator. “I’ve sent a message to the Doctor, the real Doctor. He’s going to meet us at the TARDIS.” Jack swore softly as his friend fell towards the ground, unconscious. Whatever virtual reality that machine had sent her to had obviously taken a toll on the young blonde.  
“Doctor!” Rose cried, disoriented yet again. Instantly, a leather-clad arm was steadying her and a soft Northern accent explaining what had happened. Rose didn’t pay attention, too glad to be home with her best mates. She buried her face against the Doctor’s jumper and smiled as a tear slipped down her cheek. The Doctor hesitantly wiped it away with his thumb, softly kissing its watery trail and pulled Rose closer, their temples touching.


	39. Sake

“Human.” Rose was forced to the left as the alien scanned her, then scanned the Doctor. “Not human,” it proclaimed.

“Doctor!” Rose cried, as the aliens forced them apart. A wild idea came into her head and, breaking through a barrier, Rose ran towards the Doctor, enveloping him in a bear hug and smothering him with kisses. The alien moved to separate the duo once more and Rose could only hope that her DNA covered enough of the Doctor’s skin so that he registered as human. She laced her fingers though his, desperately feigning nonchalance as the alien consulted its’ readings. The alien faced Rose.

“You are human,” it read from its’ device. It made faces and smacked the device before scanning the Doctor once more. The alien frowned at the scanner before reluctantly pronouncing the Doctor “human. Damage to chest area.” The alien escorted the pair back to the pen where they secured the humans and locked the gate. Rose looked at the Doctor.

“So what’s going on? How come they’re separating aliens from humans? I thought that humans got on with all sorts of people.” She whispered urgently.

Two hours later, the Doctor had answered some of Rose’s questions. “Now, I think it’s my turn to ask one.” Rose’s stomach flopped.

“Listen, I only did it because then you’d have some of my, my DNA on your skin and then maybe you’d register as human and not alien on their scanner things.” She smiled hopefully.

“And what if it had been scanning internal organs? What then, Rose? Do you have any idea what they’d have done to you if they realized you were engaging with an alien?” The Doctor looked around the room and Rose knew that he was working on a plan. A plan to help the prisoners escape.

“I tried, Doctor. I tried. Even if they did whatever they’d’ve done, I tried. I would have at least tried not to let them separate us. I assume that separation’d be comparable to rule one?” Rose protested. Rule number one, don’t wander off.

“Keep a look out for any guards,” the Doctor turned to face the wall, removing the sonic screwdriver from his pocket, a faint smile stretching across his face. She’d kissed him for sake of their situation, yes, but there was more to it than that. He could feel it. He, he loved Rose Tyler (there, was that so hard, he thought to himself) and perhaps, just perhaps, however impossible, she felt something for him too.


	40. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Person A has a nightmare about an event that at that point will happen to A, B, or them as a couple in canon. Person B comforts them, telling them things like “Something like this will never happen”. Bonus: Flash forward to the event taking place.

The Doctor awoke suddenly, rolling over to sit up. He pushed the coverlet aside and ran a hand through his hair, breathing deeply; nightmares always took a deep toll on the Time Lord. Normally, his sleep was dreamless, or else filled with images from the Last Great Time War. This time, however, was different.  
Rose was gone. Nothing but a projection on a beach. He cried her name, running towards her, wishing desperately to take her into his arms. He reached out to touch her, but his hand passed straight through hers. Her large brown eyes were filled with tears and the Doctor, the ever so strong mighty Time Lord, was an emotional wreck. In his dream, he was wretched and alone and so desperately in love with Rose Tyler but she was gone.

The Doctor realized that he was in the kitchen, the kitchen that was his but also Rose’s. The changes to his utilitarian space had slowly taken over, the addition of yellow curtains over the sink and matching towels. A fruit basket, filled with bananas and oranges and several alien fruits untranslatable to English. He sank into his chair, lost in his own thoughts. The next thing he knew, Rose was shaking him.

“Doctor! Doctor, please wake up.” She was pleading.

“M okay,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. Rose had asked him a question, the Doctor realized belatedly, as he looked at her.

“No, you’re not,” Rose said firmly. “You were talking in your sleep.”

“I’m fine, Rose.” The Doctor pushed the nightmare to the back of his mind. “What should we have for breakfast?”

Rose placed two bowls of banana yoghurt and granola on the table. “Don’t think I’m gonna let this go, Doctor. I know you.”

The Doctor realized that there was no way that he was going to get away without telling Rose about his dream. And so, in as succinct a way as possible, he conveyed the basic outline of the nightmare.

Rose scooted her stool closer to the Doctor’s and hugged him. “I’m not ever gonna leave you. I promise.” Her eyes were filled with every emotion from love and tenderness to fright to melancholy. Though the Doctor didn’t doubt her sincerity, he knew from experience that in the end, his loved ones always left him.  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
The Doctor stood on the beach at Darlig Ulv Stranden. Five and a half hours had passed and he knew that there was no way to cross into the other universe. As he had told Rose, when his people stood tall crossing dimensions had been easy. He had never imagined that he would lose her in this way. Rose growing old and dying, yes; Rose deciding she that she couldn’t travel with him anymore, yes; but never anything remotely close to this.

The Doctor entered the TARDIS, ready to fall apart. His emotions ruled his mind and, reflecting back, had Donna not suddenly appeared, well, the Doctor didn’t want to dwell on that possibility.


	41. Drunk Kisses

"I'll have you know, Jack Harkness, that no hypervodka is enough to intoxicate a Time Lord," the Doctor slurred, hiccoughing as he poured another shot.

Jack laughed, attempting to walk around the table to sit next to his friend but tripping over it and faceplanting instead. "Try this one," he poured the Doctor another shot, dribbling alcohol onto the floor. "Oops," he giggled.

Rose stood in the doorway of an unfamiliar room, trying to scowl at her (very) drunk friends. "Hello Jack," she said crossly, as he swept her into a hug, kissing her cheek. Her eyes bored holes into the Doctor's, who brusquely shrugged into his leather jacket.

"Jack. Is drunk," he articulated, some part of his oversize brain knowing better than to admit his own inebriation.

"Clearly," Rose replied, disengaging herself from Jack, who had started to dance with her. Jack continued to dance with himself.

"Where shall we go, Rose Tyler? Shall we go to the twin planet of Raxacoricofallapatorius? Fancy a visit to Clom?" The Doctor attempted to walk through the door, which had disappeared. The TARDIS had, presumably, not wanted the two drunkards wandering her halls and taken precautions; however, the lack of door made it impossible for Rose to leave.

"Rose Tyler." The Doctor smiled, and it was a genuine smile, albeit melancholy.

"Doctor." Rose, while not mad (what right did she have to be mad anyway), was definitely not happy, the Doctor realized.

Before his buzzed brain could stop his nerve, the Doctor kissed Rose Tyler. He felt her begin to melt into the kiss, then she stiffened, quite unexpectedly. The Doctor's expression, his wits about him immediately, sobered.

"That was quite out of line," he said in a tight voice. "This'll be the last time Jack persuades me to drink with him. I'm, I'm sorry, Rose." The Doctor added.

Rose was aghast and knew her facial expression showed it. Finally, she managed to wrap her mouth around the words echoing in her brain.

"If I'd have known that you were gonna kiss me, I'd have asked Jack to get you drunk a long time ago." Rose lilted, her voice sounding perfectly melodious to the Doctor.

"That mean I get to do it again?" The Doctor asked innocently.

"Not until you're sober," Rose enunciated, smiling in her anticipation and left the Doctor, now glaring at Jack, who had decided to foxtrot with his imaginary partner.


	42. Nuit Blanche

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Person B has been having nightmares so person B borrows person A’s shirts, which has been helping them sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

Time Lords didn’t need much sleep. The Doctor’s normal amount of sleep was usually only four hours, twenty-two minutes, eighteen seconds, though he usually went for much greater periods of time without. The first night he spent with Rose Tyler, he was trapped on an alien planet and she snuggled closer to him. It had been cold and humans needed a much warmer body temperature than what the planet’s climate allowed. He’d watched her as she fell asleep, cuddling to conserve precious body heat. He awoke much earlier than she, gently rolling over as to not be the little spoon anymore, twisting their fingers together when she reached out in her sleep.

She’d smiled softly as she awoke, gently stroking the Doctor’s hand with her thumb. Always found a way to hold hands, even when he was facing away from her. The mattress had creaked as the Doctor rolled over, his blue eyes soft and with discharge in the corners. She’d teased him about his ‘superior biology’ that allowed ‘eye gunk’ to form whilst sleeping and they’d playfully bantered.

Now, the TARDIS had locked him in his bedroom; worried about her Thief who refused to take the time to care for himself. He hadn’t been in his bedroom since their last night. Closing his eyes, he summoned the courage to look objectively at his room.

The bed was unmade, sheets rumpled. His glasses, a fashion accessory more than anything else, were sitting atop Charles Dickens’ The Signal-Man, the arm marking their place in the novel. Her nightdress, lazily hanging from the bedpost on the right side. Her nightdress. The pink dress from their trip to the Coronation, visibly hanging from the closet. A blue and purple tee shirt balled in the corner. Never to be worn again. 

Slipping. Whatever tenacious grip he had on reality was almost gone. His bedroom? Their bedroom. Literally. (The ship, sweet dear, had merged the two rooms together). He staggered to the bed, clutching the nightdress, breathing in the sillage that lingered still. He allowed sleep to claim him, if only temporarily to be reunited with his Rose. To hold her, to kiss her, if only in his dreams.


	43. Between the Sheets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine your OTP sleeping in bed together. Person A accidentally falls off the bed and bumps their head on their nightstand. Luckily, they didn’t get a concussion or anything— just a little bump. Person B hears the noise and gets up to pick up Person A and put them back in bed. They ask Person A if they’re okay and Person A just squeezes their hands. Once Person A’s head starts feeling a bit better, they fall asleep curled near each other, far from the edges of the bed.
> 
> The first night.
> 
> http://some-imaginative-otp-imagines.tumblr.com/post/132536382437/imagine-your-otp-sleeping-in-bed-together-person

Rose curled up on the edge of the bed. Her head was so confused and she just wanted to sleep. All that time spent trying to get back to him and he just took her back to that accursed beach with a human!Doctor. The same man, he’d assured her. Rose looked over at the man loudly snoring opposite her and rolled over, knocking her head against the rigid hotel lamp and slipping onto the floor. “OW!” She exclaimed, forgetting that it was, in fact, the middle of the night and people were sleeping.

He was up immediately. “Rose?” His voice was filled with astonishment. “Just a dream,” he said dejectedly; Rose could hear him roll onto his back (the Doctor always fallen asleep on his back, she remembered). She sat up against the side of the bed, not making any noise. “Of course was just a sodding dream. Slept for…” And here, he fell silent. “Three hours?” He finished, sounding confused, phrasing it like a question. “It’s…four o’clock?” Rose realized that he must not know what time it was. “You’re on the floor,” he remarked, and before she knew what was happening, he’d scooped her up into his arms and was tucking her back under the covers. “Are you alright?” He asked, only just realizing that he hadn’t yet checked whether or not she, gingerly examining her head. Rose winced, automatically reaching for his free hand as the pain blasted through her head. “I’m so sorry,” he apologized immediately, tenderly stroking her face as the tears began to flow once more.

Rose looked at the hand she was squeezing, then at his face. “Doctor,” she whispered. At his grateful nod, she immediately cuddled closer; the Doctor lifted his arm so that it was resting atop the covers covering her shoulder. Rose rested her head on his chest, listening to the pitiful single heartbeat. “My Doctor,” she breathed, as sleep claimed her once more.

“Rose,” he mumbled, breathing in the scent of her hair, re-memorizing every detail that he possibly could before he, too, fell asleep.


	44. Good Night Kisses

Staying up ‘late’, like most senses of time on the TARDIS, was a human expression that the Doctor found himself using more and more each time he picked up a new companion. Time spent in any room was a timeless experience, as the TARDIS, while in the vortex, existed outside of normal space-time. ‘Tonight’, he was reclined in a couch in the media room with his current companion. The Doctor was explicitly aware of his avoidance to use her name when referring to her in his head; never before had he not mentally named the companion he was thinking about. Like most sessions in the media room, she had picked out the movie; he was surprised by her various selections – together, they had watched the earliest science fiction Earth movies, fifty-first century romcoms from a dozen different colony planets, a surprisingly touching adventure play-turned-movie from Clom, among others.

The Doctor was explicitly aware of when Rose fell asleep and paused the movie. Running a hand over his head, he deliberated carrying her to room or simply draping a blanket over her to sleep here. Ultimately, he decided that she would probably be most comfortable in her room. He turned the television off and gathered Rose and her various blankets in his arms. The TARDIS had moved her bedroom across the hall and dimmed the lights, as to not wake the human, and the Doctor mentally thanked his ship. The TARDIS gently berated him for not… well, he supposed she wanted him to act on the feelings that he shoved down and hid beneath his core on a daily basis, the feelings for a certain blonde human that were growing exponentially each time he was with her.

“What? Do you want me to just stroll up to her one day? Say, hey Rose, this is Planet X and by the way, even though I’m nine hundred years older than you and you’re a different species than I am, I’ve fallen in love with you? Might as well invite Jackie to tea while I’m at it, get slapped into oblivion. Least then…” The Doctor cut himself off, not wishing to dwell on what he couldn’t admit to himself, not noticing that Rose had begun to stir until they had reached her bedroom.

“Doctor?” She murmured, raising her head off his shoulder.

The Doctor’s expressions froze, though his gait did not change. “Rose,” he replied cautiously.

She mumbled something, snuggling closer against his maroon jumper. The Doctor looked at the pink and yellow human in his arms and smiled as she slowly, sleepily covered his neck in kisses. He turned his head and slowly, cautiously, pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. Rose smiled as fatigue overtook her once more and her arm dropped limply from around the Doctor’s neck. He took her to her bedroom and tucked her in underneath the white duvet, staying when her fingers refused to let go of his hand.


	45. Secret Joy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt taken from: http://you-make-me-wander.tumblr.com/post/106083456693/aus-and-prompts-list  
> Imagine person A of your OTP is reading a book late at night and person B can’t sleep so they ask person A to read to them so person A starts reading out loud and a few minutes later person B is completely knocked out and person A gives them a kiss on their forehead.

Rose loved nothing as much as she loved listening to the Doctor read aloud. In her time aboard the TARDIS, she had heard all seven Harry Potter novels, the collected works of Agatha Christie, several Shakespearian plays, two Tolstoy novels, multiple poems by Lord Byron; this was only what Rose remembered him read.

‘Tonight’ was no exception. Rose found that her preconception of “Frankenstein” was about as far off the mark as was possible. And so, she focussed on the sound of the Doctor’s voice until she was lulled to sleep.

The Doctor always noticed the exact second that Rose would fall asleep and would soften his voice until he essentially faded out. It was clear to him that Rose enjoyed their readings and he told himself that that was why he continued to read aloud to her.

Every night, he carefully marked their place in the novel (the Doctor never remembered which story he read to her, always being completely distracted by her mere presence) and placed it on her nightstand.

And every night, the Doctor did what he was otherwise too much of a coward to; he kissed her forehead, softly stroked back her hair and pulled the covers back over her still form, and smiled.


	46. Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Person A is baking cookies and has to split their attention between watching the timer and fighting off Person B, who keeps trying to steal cookie dough from the bowl. Via otp--prompts.tumblr.com

All in all, perhaps promising to bake the cookies for Tony’s fundraiser hadn’t been the best idea, thought Rose, tiredly flipping the last dozen off the sheet onto the cooling wire. Behind her, the Doctor was rinsing the dishes and putting the ingredients away; it was his own fault that he was stuck in the kitchen, Rose had told him to go off and tinker in the workshop, but oh no, he had to offer to help. However, she had to admit, doing anything with her new new Doctor was an experience to cherish and remember.

_Three hours previously._

“Rose…” The Doctor had walked into the kitchenette, and immediately spied a bowl of cookie dough. Hurriedly checking that Rose was not in sight, the Doctor had stuck a finger into the dough and scooped a dollop with his finger.

“Doctor!” Rose had entered the kitchen with a jar of Crisco, to find him having half-eaten her dough. He had looked up, startled, his eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights and slowly pulled his finger out of his mouth, swallowing.

“Out.” She said firmly. “I promised Mum I’d finish these for her.” ‘Now I’ll need to start from scratch,’ she addded silently.

The Doctor looked from the bowl to his wife and back to the bowl. “I’m sorry, Rose. Let me do it, I ruined the first batch; no need for you to waste your time re-doing…” he trailed off as Rose glared murderously at him; though the last time had been his Time Lord self and a regeneration previous, the Doctor still remembered what it felt like to be on the receiving end of a Tyler slap and had no desire to repeat the experience.

As the mixer blended the ingredients together under Rose’s watchful eye, the Doctor greased a new cookie sheet. He placed it on the counter next to Rose as she turned the mixer off and gave her his spoon to plop the dough onto the sheet, pulling an exaggerated pout when she laughed at him and grabbed a clean spoon from the drawer. The Doctor saw the opportunity and stuck the handle of the spoon in the batter, his expression falling as the cookie batter slipped off. He grabbed a rubber spatula as Rose raised an eyebrow, continuing to giggle at him, suddenly flinging a blob of dough onto her forehead.

“Doctor,” she laughed, flinging the raw cookie back at him. “Oh, that’s the timer,” she grabbed the oven mitts and pulled the first dozen cookies out. Rose turned with the hot pan to see the Doctor very quickly close his mouth. Her eyes narrowed. “Doctor,”

He shrugged, his larynx bobbing as he tried to swallow discretely.

“There’s still cookie on your face,” she laughed, her own face lighting up beautifully, though she turned much too soon to put the hot pan on the stove. The Doctor snuck behind her and waited until she had stepped away from the stove to bury his face in her hair and snake an arm around her waist.

“Rose Tyler,” he mumbled happily.

“My Doctor,” she kissed his throat lasciviously and he sighed, pleased, his hand moving up her back to unclasp her bra. Rose pulled the Doctor’s tee shirt over his head and he growled her name impatiently, his hand immediately going back to remove her clothing.

_Now_

And so, the Doctor was now ‘stuck’ baking cookies for a bake sale. How terribly domestic, he thought ironically, knowing that he would not trade being in this kitchen with Rose Tyler for anything in the world.

 


	47. Stolen Moments Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve had dimension-hopping Rose meet the First (Street Scene) and Twelfth Doctors (Stolen Moments). So here’s the Eleventh. Because in a universe that pits the Doctor and Rose Tyler apart, they always find their way back to each other.

He sees her, meets her brown eyes briefly, before quickly looking away. She’s wearing her blue leather jacket, the one he knows she bought in memory of him on that parallel world, and the thought burns in his mind, jealousy of himself raging under his calm exterior. He hopes that she doesn’t recognize this new face of his. Though she looks right past him, his hearts skip a beat and he tries to make eye contact with her, while still hiding behind River and the Ponds. While still holding River’s hand and pretending to be the doting husband that she remembered so long along in the Library. But River is looking strangely at him and spying past him, searching for the cause of his distraction. He tries to put it off but River can sense that something is not right. He wonders why he married her sometimes, knowing that when he finds out, he’ll likely be in River’s place, hiding information she hasn’t experienced to preserve the timelines, hoping that she’ll fall in love with him. 

But she’s still here and he can see the changing timelines, can see a way to change his past because his past is her future and the future hasn’t been written yet; he’s the Lord of Time, her future can be whatever he wants it to be and even now, hundreds of years later, he still misses her – he still regrets forcing her to stay in that other universe with his and Donna’s metacrisis. But that hasn’t happened for her yet, Rose is still searching for that other him, the one still with two hearts, but also the warm brown eyes and the spikey hair and sideburns. His hearts yearn for her and as he’s staring at her, she looks him in the eye and he sees a spark of recognition, he knows that she recognizes him despite his green eyes and floppy hair and suddenly she’s sprinting towards him, pushing past all the ordinary people who have no idea that they are about to witness the greatest reunion in history. He abandons the Ponds, running to meet her; he doesn’t notice until she’s in his arms that he’s sobbing her name.

“My Doctor,” she smiles, tears threatening to spill down her cheek. He waits for them to fall before wiping them away with his thumbs, cradling her face between his hands.  
“Rose,” he finally breathes, his head spinning, not from a lack of oxygen (thank evolution for Gallifreyan respiratory bypasses) but the sight of seeing her one last time.  
“I love you,” she reminds him, her voice surprisingly steady. She’s said the words so many times, never to hear them back. Never when she travelled with him. Not when she met him before he knew whom she was. Or even from his future self, though she’d felt him come close in telling her his name. She runs a hand through his hair, softly kissing his cheek.

He knows that this is his last chance to tell her those three stupid words. When would he ever have a chance to see her again? (Hint: Chapter 33). “Rose Tyler,” he starts, only to be silenced by lips locking onto his. His face is wet and the Doctor realizes he is crying. He cups her face shakily and looks into her warm hazel eyes and he reinitiates the kiss; the Time Lord doesn’t think about time, because in this instance, he wishes it could stop forever and create a bubble for him and his Rose.


	48. Stupid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Person A has low self-esteem but keeps it hidden from Person B. A starts crying one night, B tries comforting A. A calls self 'stupid'. B tells A they wish A could love them self the way B loves A.
> 
> A/N: This prompt seemed like it would work really well for both the Doctor and Rose.

The Doctor often spent the hours that a companion slept wandering the halls of the TARDIS, tinkering in various rooms. Always on the lookout for his next distraction, the Doctor. Not always intentionally - he loved spending time with his companions - but the Doctor was a restless man. Never one to stay content in one place, he had ran away with his granddaughter in a stolen TARDIS to spend the rest of his lives away from the confinement of the stuffy Time Lords. He would never admit to Rose that the fact that anybody he had ever cared about left pierced his hearts in stabbing pain, or that, the coward that he was, he had allowed some eight hundred years elapse without contact since promising said granddaughter that he would visit her. The Doctor felt water drip down his face and was glad that he was alone; glad that he could hide his most frail self from his companion.

"Stupid old Time Lord," he muttered. He was a coward, too scared to even say hello to his own granddaughter. Too much of a coward to face her after so many centuries, knowing that he'd broken his promise to come back to her. Too much of a coward to go back and see her happily married. He hoped she was happy. Susan knew the TARDIS number, surely she would have telephoned had something been wrong. The Doctor shook his head. Susan was probably having a fantastic life with David, she probably wouldn't have time for an old man like himself, he reasoned, knowing that he was wrong, at the same time wondering why he couldn't even visit his Susan.

"You're the smartest person I've ever met, so don't go around calling yourself stupid, Doctor." A hand wrapped around his and the Doctor looked up to see Rose sitting beside him on the jump seat. "Why can't you see yourself how I see you, then? You're brilliant. Not just intellectually, though that too. You're a fantastic friend," Rose emphasized 'fantastic', knowing that it was his favourite word. "And you go around thinking that you're a coward, when you're the bravest man I've ever known." She squeezed the Doctor's hand.

"I'm not some pretty boy, Rose, no need to suck up," he replied morosely.

"You go out there, every day, and make a difference in the universe, Doctor." Rose said firmly. She crooked her free arm over the Doctor's shoulders and hugged him.  
It had never occurred to Rose that the Doctor's self-deprecating humour was a coping mechanism until now. "Could even say that you're a hero," she trailed off as the Doctor stiffened. "You're the only person I've ever known well enough to be my personal hero. You know that my Dad died when I was a baby and that nobody that Mum dated could ever reach the pedestal that I put him upon. And then I met you," Rose looked up at the Doctor, eyes shining. "And you showed me things beyond my wildest dreams, but most importantly, you showed me how to care. And if there's one thing that I know about you Doctor, it's that you care. About everyone. And I really think that if you could care for yourself half as well as you care for others, you'd be a better man." The Doctor allowed Rose to pull him to his feet, eventually noticing that she had led him to the galley, a fresh pot of tea steeping on the counter. He pressed a soft kiss to his companion's head, accepting a mug of tea prepared just the way he liked it (splash of milk, no sugar).  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
No A levels, no job, no future. Rose had nothing left at home, so she was curious as to why her travelling bothered her mum and Mickey so. Jackie knew all this and Rose knew this, but it didn't make it hurt any less when her mother said it. Rose had said as much herself when she'd first met the Doctor, swinging across the Henrick's basement to help a stranger deal with living plastic.

And though her troubles didn't stop when she began travelling with the Doctor, they began to seem more inconsequential. So what if she didn't have her A levels? She still helped the Doctor to save the day, sometimes managing to do so even without his help. Rose knew that she wasn't a complete idiot, in spite of all the Doctor's talk about stupid apes. She'd been traveling with him for a few weeks when he'd taken her, against his better judgement, to see her dad. When he'd tried to leave, she had been in shock, his words numbing her and not truly sinking in until well after he had returned.

"Aren't you going to rub it in, then?" Rose all but hissed at the Doctor. "Take me back to the estate. I'm just a stupid ape, after all." She stood by the door, as if waiting for the Doctor to pull them from the vortex, hiding the tears that began to stream down her face.

"Do you want to go?" The Doctor asked, his hearts sinking at the thought of Rose leaving him.

"S better this way," Rose muttered.

"Everyone makes mistakes, Rose." The Doctor said kindly.

"Most people aren't stupid enough to almost end the world when they make a mistake," Rose replied darkly, trying to mask the lump that was rising in her throat.  
Despite all that she had done in her time onboard the TARDIS, Rose still thought that she was "just another stupid ape," Rose's voice pulled him from his brief reverie.

"You're not," he said sharply. "Adam was a stupid ape. You're, Rose, you're fantastic." After all their adventures, how could Rose not see how much good she had done? That she was, despite her rough teenhood, one of the most compassionate people he had ever met. He threw a lever on the console, the TARDIS knowing exactly where her Thief wanted to take her Wolf. "Come with me," the Doctor leads Rose to her bedroom, where the TARDIS has prepared several possible outfits for Rose. "Meet me in the entrance when you're ready," the Doctor says gently, hugging Rose and softly kissing her forehead.


	49. Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine your OTP going to Prom (or a dance or some sort of formal event) and Person A being very excited about it. For whatever reason, something bad happens at the event (could be a wardrobe malfunction or a bad encounter with someone or the event generally not being as nice as they hoped) and they end up going home early and quite upset. Later on, Person B puts on some music and Person A and Person B dance in their living room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The build up to the main part of the story ended up being much longer than I had anticipated, and then Rose surprised me by making this happen now, not in the past. I’m pretty certain that this is my first piece that I’ve written in present tense.

“Never been to a formal before,” Rose admits breathlessly, still looking around in wonder. The Doctor had already surmised as much, as Rose had left school with Jimmy Stone by Sixth Form.

“You look beautiful,” he tells her, still astounded at how lucky he was to be her partner at this dance, that she hadn’t found some stupid pretty boy to go off with and cause trouble. Rose smiles, shyly at first but it widens into what should be a trademarked Rose Tyler Smile TM.

“For a human,” she laughs, her tongue poking between her teeth.

No, he wants to tell her. You are beautiful. “Rose Tyler,” he starts, but instead of finishing his sentence, the Doctor grins and for Rose there is no sight as gorgeous as the Doctor is when he is happy and his smile is blindingly bright. It is in these moments that Rose allows herself to hope that her wildest dreams are somehow mutual; that there is some way that the Doctor could be falling for her the way she is for him.

Of course, aliens crashing the party interrupt their brief moment of peace and they are soon running for their lives, the Oncoming Storm and the Bad Wolf saving the day. A very normal day for the Doctor and his companion. Still, he thinks wistfully, it would be nice if danger and trouble didn’t pop out at every corner. Particularly when you are dancing a very romantic piece with your companion.

They end up back at the TARDIS; Rose is breathless from both the excitement and running in heels. Rose excuses herself to go to the loo – a cool bath, she thinks, is in order. The Doctor mutters something about doing some repairs under the console and starts pulling up the grating, absolutely not staring at Rose’s backside as she walks down the corridor. He reaches for his screwdriver, and then remembers that he had left it in his jacket. The Doctor gropes around the jump seat, pulling material down when he feels worn leather under his fingers. The sonic falls down and he stares at it for a moment, remembering the start of their evening and wanting to begin again, before trouble had caught up to them.

“The Time Lord losing track of time?” Rose teases as she comes back into the entrance room, seeing the Doctor still sitting in the grating, absently staring past the coral struts. “Thought you were gonna do some repairs.”

The Doctor shortly replies that he had had matters that were more pressing on his mind. Which, from his subjective viewpoint, was true. He notices that Rose has changed into pyjamas and asks if she is on her way to bed.

“No,” Rose looks down, as if surprised by her attire. “Just put something comfy on after a bath.” She tugs a brush through her tangled hair, wincing as it audibly breaks some strands. The Doctor impulsively takes the hairbrush from Rose and pats the jump seat. Rose smiles, muttering “Thanks,” as she crosses her legs. It only takes a few minutes for the Time Lord to comb Rose’s hair and deftly twist it into a braid. As he is fastening the hair clip, the lights dim.

“What are you doing, old girl?” He asks, finishing tying the clip. The room is bathed in a warm red light, complementing the gold interior and music begins to play. The Doctor looks unimpressed.

“What’s going on?” Rose directs her question to the Doctor.

“I don’t remember finishing our dance, Rose Tyler.” The Doctor replies. Rose is momentarily caught off-guard by his mood swing, but smiles. “As I recall, this song was just starting when all the… commotion started tonight,” Rose’s smile widens, catching on to what the Doctor was hinting at. She holds out her hand, arching an eyebrow as if silently daring the Time Lord to take it.

He does and then they are twirling around the room as Glenn Miller’s In the Mood begins. “We danced to this during the Blitz,” Rose laughs, remembering the jealousy he had exhibited when she and Jack had attempted this song in the TARDIS.

“Our first dance,” the Doctor says, his Northern brogue thick with poorly hidden emotion.

“You had two left feet,” Rose teases.

“Oi. Nine hundred years old, me, it had been a while.” The Doctor replies, wounded.

“Oh, okay, I forgive you,” Rose says dramatically as he picks her up by her waist and twirls her around. “But only because you’re a senior citizen.”

“I am not a senior citizen,” the Doctor says cheekily. Rose raises an eyebrow.

“Nine hundred years old, me,” she imitates.

“I’m…late middle-aged,” he finally says contemplatively.

“You still have two left feet,” Rose half-laughs, half-grimaces as the Doctor steps on her foot. “You think you’re so impressive.”

Her eyes are shining brilliantly and she is positively radiant with her blinding smile, tongue poking through her teeth. It would be so simple to bend down, dip her and capture her lips in his own, but he doesn’t. It would so simple to whisper three stupid little words to her, his lips brushing against her ear, but he doesn’t.

“I am so impressive,” the Doctor lifts Rose into the air, higher than before.

“Just a little,” she allows a smile to once more brilliantly grace her features.

“I suppose that I’ll just have to show you my moves,” the Doctor cups her face in his hands and touches his forehead to hers. He feels Rose’s arms wrap around his neck and he runs his down her back; he feels her lips ghost his own and before he can think with his head, his lips are already pressing down on hers. “Rose,” he murmurs against her lips, capturing her upper lip as his mouth forms the word. He picks her up again and they make their way to the nearest room.

When Jack found his way back to the TARDIS the next morning, the door leading away from the console room was firmly locked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The Doctor being late middle-aged is postulated from his being more than half through his regeneration cycle (being the tenth incarnation of the Doctor, he still has three regenerations available [Ten, Ten again, and Eleven]), his claim of being 900 in series one, and from the Time Lord Wikipedia page:  
> In Pyramids of Mars, the Fourth Doctor considers an age of 750 years to be "middle-aged". In "The Stolen Earth”, the Tenth Doctor refers to when his original incarnation was a "kid" at 90 years old. After 200, they wouldn’t be considered young.


	50. Strawberry Jello

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine your OTP skinny-dipping in a pool filled with strawberry-flavored Jell-O via otpprompts.tumblr.com. This could be considered NSFW-ish.

“You,” Rose says pointedly, “are mad. Completely barmy. Bonkers.”

“Oh yes,” the Doctor replies, shaking his head while beaming manically.

“How’d you even, no, you know what, I don’t want to know,” Rose laughs, staring at the plastic blow-up pool that was currently sitting in their bedroom. She has her suspicions as to what the pool is filled with and sticks her finger in the red gelatin; she swallows the goop and laughs again. “I don’t think I could ever eat this much Jell-O in one sitting.”

“Good thing I’m here then.” The Doctor has Rose’s hand in his now; he flicks his tongue against her skin, obnoxiously slurping the remaining Jell-O from her hand. “Oh! Here, put these on,” he says excitedly, handing Rose a pair of plastic swimming goggles. “And I’d suggest taking your clothes off,” the Doctor smirks, “unless you’d rather throw them out due to the terrible red stains that they are otherwise about to acquire.” Rose strips as slow as possible, feeling the Doctor’s stare burning her backside. She leaves her knickers on (A/N: honestly, I’m pretty sure that no one would ever want to be naked while in a pool of Jell-O. Just no) and steps into the pool.

The Jell-O is cool against her skin. Rose rolls it out across her legs, marvelling at the unique sensation and is acutely aware of the Jell-O that is matting the Doctor’s chest hairs. She pokes at an untouched place of Jell-O, her hand easily sliding through the viscous solid, and brings the gelatin to the Doctor’s mouth. He drinks in greedily, his eyes never leaving hers, and when the Jell-O is mostly gone, he kisses her palm – once, twice, after the third kiss he moves up to her wrist. He covers her arm with kisses, noisily slurping the Jell-O, and makes his way over her shoulder; his tongue trails across her collarbone and up her neck. He gently bites down on her lip and Rose feels the smell of gelatin soaking into his face, his pores. The smell of strawberry is becoming overwhelming and Rose revels in it. She caresses the Doctor’s shoulders, rubbing the Jell-O firmly into his skin, skin that is red, stained by the gelatin and flushed. He kisses her again, harder, and she vaguely thinks about how hot he is, naked but for the ‘brainy specs’ and all red and hot and bothered. It’s all very steamy, until some Jello gets stuck in the Doctor’s nose and he splutters, eventually spraying the pool with sneeze.

They make their way eagerly to the shower.


	51. Spring is In the Air

It was a typical spring afternoon, about ten degrees and slightly overcast. The crocuses were just beginning to blossom and Rose Tyler couldn’t be happier. It was almost her first anniversary of staying in this world with her Doctor and over the past year, Rose had learned about and grown to love this new new Doctor. She couldn’t help but laugh softly in marvel of her good fortune, and looked over at her Doctor, splayed over the picnic blanket absent-mindedly munching dried bananas. Rose leaned over and brushed her lips against his cheek.

“What was that for?” The Doctor smiled, reaching up to gently tuck a stray hair behind Rose’s ear.

“Nothing. I’m just, happy.” Rose laced her fingers through the Doctor’s. “We’ve been here, together, for a year.”

“Stuck here, planet-side, on the slow path, for an entire year?” The Doctor teased.

“Not a bad life,” Rose grinned, her tongue poking through her teeth.

“Better with two,” the Doctor replied, leaning over to snog her. Rose sighed happily and eagerly returned his kiss. The Doctor gently pushed her until she was laying on her back in the dewed grass. Rose ran her fingers absently through the Doctor’s hair as they snogged, leaning into the moment. Neither noticed the rainbow that began to form as the sun emerged from behind the rainclouds.


	52. Chapter 52

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I combined two prompts for this fic.  
> Via otpdisaster:  
> Person A frolicking happily through the snow–perhaps seeing it for the first time–as Person B watches, more content with relaxing/observing. Person B looks away for one second and Person a jumps into a bed of freshly fallen snow, only to discover that it’s at least four feet deep. Person B glances back up to find A flailing their arms, stuck waist-deep in snow.
> 
> Via the-otp-feels:  
> Imagine your OTP cuddling in front of the fireplace.

Rose was more than happy to observe the Doctor engage in a snowball fight against Pete and Tony from the relative safety of the back porch. Though he was outnumbered, the Doctor was holding his own, alternating between prepping snowballs, fighting off advancing attacks, and throwing his own snowballs. He was doing fairly well, until Tony caught him with a face full of snow. “Mmmph!” The Doctor spluttered. Tony took the lack of return fire as a sign to tackle the Doctor, and Rose laughed as her husband fell face-first into his snow fort. Rose reckoned that he was surrounded by about four feet of snow, though the walls of his fort were starting to collapse. Tony was standing beside the Doctor, laughing at the sight of his brother covered in snow. Rose smiled and quickly snapped a picture of the pair with her phone, before going inside to put the kettle on; the Doctor was definitely going to want a cup of tea when he finally came inside.

The Doctor, meanwhile, was being buried alive. Tony Tyler was using the packed snow from the crumbling fortress to cover him. “Okay, Tony, let me up.” He could feel his body growing colder as the child continued to make a snow mound. “Have I told you about the Ice Warriors yet, Tony?”

“Nope.” Tony dropped a handful of snow onto the Doctor’s face. The Doctor sneezed.

“Well, let’s make a snow Ice Warrior. Ooo, we could make Snow Warriors and Snow Daleks and Snow Cybermen. Well, maybe not Cybermen. Snow legs don’t tend to work. What do you say?” The Doctor attempted to give Tony something else to do with snow that did not involve himself being stuck under a pile of the white stuff.

“Nope.” Tony packed more snow on top of the Doctor. “Look,” he pointed at the miniature snowman that he had made atop the Doctor’s snow-covered chest.

“Tony!” Jackie called from the house.

“Coming, Mum!” The little boy cried happily, patting one more handful of snow onto the Doctor. He skipped up to the house, almost running into his sister, who had come to an abrupt stop on the patio. “Doctor’s covered in snow!” He sang, beaming.

“I can see that,” Rose stifled a snicker. She took her mobile from her pocket, blatantly taking another photo of her husband. Rose shooed her brother into house and went to excavate the Doctor. “Can’t get up?” She teased.

“Didn’t want to ruin his fun, is all. I c-could have gotten up at any minute,” he said breathlessly, shaking from the cold.

“Right, well, let’s get you inside. Don’t need you to go and catch your death of cold.” Rose didn’t think that she could stand it if he spent another week moaning and complaining about weak human bodies. The Doctor made a face.

“Felt like I was dying,” he muttered, still shivering. Rose draped his arm over her shoulder and walked with him up to the house.

“Tea ought to be ready, I’d put the kettle on,” she said, smiling as they walked into the mudroom. “You, go put some dry clothes on. Be up in a minute.” The Doctor kissed her cheek appreciatively, awkwardly changing out from his soaked jeans and grabbing a towel, before heading up the stairs to their bedroom.

Rose went back to the kitchen and put the teapot and two mugs on a tray. The gas fireplace in the bedroom was already on and Rose put the tea tray on the nearby table when she walked in, just as the Doctor exited the loo in his robe. “Come on,” she grabbed some pillows and the duvet from the bed.

Rose sighed as the Doctor leaned against her, his cool body slowly warming under the blanket. The empty tea tray was waiting to be taken downstairs by the door. She rested her hand on his chest, his single heartbeat soothing, and listened contently to his steady breathing.


	53. In the Infirmary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to lizziea2 on Tumblr for the prompt:  
> Ten and Rose in the TARDIS infirmary. She's giving him first aid for cuts and bruises incurred during an adventure and she kisses his injured shoulder (which leads to other kisses.)

“Hold still,” Rose gently took the Doctor’s hand to stop him picking at the bandage on his shoulder. “Whatever happened to superior Time Lord biology?” She quipped, recalling their easy banter from his last regeneration.

The Doctor winced as Rose gently wiped the dried, crusty blood that had dripped down his arm. “It’s almost clean,” she promised.

“I trust you,” the Doctor said.

“I should hope so. I only know how to do this cause you taught me, remember? So it’s really yourself you ought to trust.” Rose turned to toss the dirtied dressings in the trash and found the Doctor scratching the bandages.

“You’re not supposed to do that,” she said gently, taking his hand in her.

“I thought I was the Doctor round here,” he jested. He winced, having automatically reached up with his free hand to run it through his hair.

“Tell you what,” Rose said with exaggerated thoughtfulness. “Mum used to do this when I got into scrapes.” Hesitating slightly, Rose smoothed the bandage with her other hand and pressed her lips to the fabric. “All better.”

“Not really,” the Doctor murmured. “Still hurts.”

“Maybe a little extra medicine,” Rose replied breathlessly, kissing the Doctor’s injured arm once more. She traced the bruises that still lingered on his slender frame, her fingers making the lightest contact on his bare skin. Rose tried to ignore the shiver that ran down her back as she touched him and told herself that she’d imagined the gooseflesh that had momentarily appeared on his skin. She kissed each bruise. The Doctor could feel her lips briefly capture his skin in her mouth – he wondered if she relished the way he tasted, how he was savouring the sensation of her lips sucking his arm. He wondered what she was thinking. He wondered if she liked the hair on the back of his manly hairy hand that extended up his arms and across his chest. He wondered a great many things while Rose Tyler kissed each blemish that was on his skin. He wonders how Rose ended up in his arms and soon he forgets the amazement and lays peacefully with her on the too narrow infirmary table, both of them pressing soft, tender kisses on the other’s body.


	54. Leftover Breakfast

“For breakfast, though?” Rose wrinkled her nose.

“It’s covered in bananas. Bananas are good, Rose.” The Doctor forked another hunk of chocolate cake to his mouth. “Want some?” He asked around the mouthful.

“No, thanks.” Rose shuddered, going around the table to make some tea and toast.

“In many cultures around the galaxy, including several on your own planet, leftovers are the preferred breakfast food.” The Doctor licked from his lips, smearing it across.

“Not in England,” Rose shuddered, taking a sip of her tea.

“Not in England,” the Doctor gestured at the TARDIS’ kitchen. Rose made a face. The Doctor devoured another forkful of cake.

“You’re going to get sick,” Rose said smugly, enjoying her own breakfast.

“Superior biology, Rose,” the Doctor boasted proudly. Rose snickered. She hadn’t heard him make that claim since before his regeneration. Idly, she wondered if the Doctor in leather would eat banana chocolate cake first thing in the morning. Somehow, she doubted it.

Rose finished her toast in silence, watching as the Doctor continued to pick at the cake.

“Are you actually planning on finishing that now?’ Rose asked, incredulous. It was one thing to have a slice of cake first thing in the morning. It was quite different to consume an entire cake (minus two slices) for no apparent reason other than want.

“Yeah. Why, did you want some?” The Doctor cut another thick slice from the remaining bunt.

“No. Not really.” Rose replied truthfully. She didn’t think she could eat cake again for a long time after watching this chocolate monstrosity be eaten by one person in one go. Even if the Doctor wasn’t human, all that cake couldn’t be good for him. Rose washed her dishes in silence, letting the Doctor finish the dessert in peace. She reckoned it was the last bit of peace she’d have, once the after effects of the Doctor’s chocolate breakfast made themselves known. “I’m going… somewhere. Whatever the TARDIS wants to show me. Ladies’ day in,” Rose joked, though she truly didn’t want to be with the Doctor when he started to feel sick. Let him suffer a little, she thought, it won’t do him any harm. The TARDIS hummed in agreement, and so Rose went off exploring.

The equivalent of an hour and a half later, Rose was directed to a closed door. “He’s in there, isn’t he?” She asked the TARDIS, whose answering hum was a resounding affirmative. “He can’t say I didn’t warn him,” she muttered before entering the room to find the Doctor hunched over a toilet, convulsing under a thin blanket. Rose stayed with him as the vomiting subsided, eventually leading him to the next room to lay on a sofa. She sat with him, though he protested the ‘sick treatment’ due to his ‘superior biology’, until he fell asleep. Rose kissed his forehead, smiling as she shook her head, and retired to an armchair with a magazine to wait for the Doctor to awaken.


	55. Parental Guidance

The Doctor walked to the refrigerator lazily, the hot sun heating the already scorching kitchenette. He grabbed the milk carton and a banana, slowly stripped the banana’s skin, and ran his tongue down the side, savouring the flavour.

“Doctor!” Rose flew into the tiny kitchen. “Mum and Dad are going to be here in ten minutes, are you ready?” She stopped short, flushing as she caught sight of the Doctor in nothing but his pants. Rose leaned against the doorframe to admire the view when she remembered the reason she’d come into the kitchen. “My parents will be arriving in ten minutes, so would you please put some clothes on?” She groaned.

“As I recall, your mum liked this face when she first saw it. Who’s to say she won’t like the rest?” The Doctor drawled, running his hands up his bare thighs to rest them on his hips. Rose flushed.

“And as I recall, you never liked my mother, with or without this face.” She replied, realizing that the Doctor was sidestepping the issue. Rose walked over to the Doctor and lightly traced the lines on his abdomen. The Doctor’s all-too-human body betrayed his arousal.

“You sure that you want me clothed,” the Doctor’s voice deepened and grew darker. Rose closed her eyes, telling herself to focus. 

“Unless you want my mother to see this,” she nimbly teased the Doctor’s growing erection. The Doctor growled with discontent and began to fiercely trail kisses down Rose’s neck. She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his neck, threading her fingers in his hair, and he picked her up, setting her on the table. He caressed her body and she folded her legs around his waist, getting as close as she could.

Jacqueline Andrea Suzette Tyler had never before beheld such a sight and she never wished to again. In fact, as she headed back up to the main house, Jackie wished that she could pour bleach on her brain and purge all memory of what she had just seen.


	56. The Power of Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otpprompts.tumblr.com  
> Imagine your OTP are friends who dare each other to get their fortunes told. The fortune teller then tells them that they are destined lovers - and that they will soon be brought together by the powers of fate. Of course, the OTP doesn’t believe it.  
> What follows is a strange series of events that suggest that fate really is bringing them together. Maybe a bouquet of flowers falls from the back of a bicycle and your OTP catch it, like at a wedding. Maybe they’re paired up for trust exercises, and one has to catch the other. Maybe they want to have a movie night in, but the only chocolate they can get happens to have hearts and pink packaging on it.  
> Bonus if your OTP (or at least one person) keep shrugging off the events as they get more and more ridiculous.

The Doctor scoffed. Fortune tellers were always off the mark. He’d told Rose that no one, not even the Time Lords, could truly see the future; time was constantly in flux. He didn’t understand why Rose had chosen to visit a fortune teller, especially so soon after the Devil had said she was to die in battle. That timeline was one he was keen not to see.  
“It’s all a bunch of rubbish,” he had said, his voice still hollow with the memory of the Beast’s scarily accurate reading of Rose. The valiant child…to die in battle… But Rose had died in battle, the Bad Wolf had made certain of that. And Bad Wolf had brought her back. Well, he had taken the Time Vortex from her head when she was Bad Wolf, but Rose was safe and that fact calmed the flutter in his hearts.

Fate. What did that old Kastelldellion know about fate, anyway, especially when compared to the lone Lord of Time? And yet, the Doctor couldn’t deny that he was constantly amazed by his pink and yellow companion. And that that amazement was accompanied by pride and affection and… No. He couldn’t admit it to himself. He cared for Rose Tyler. Yes. But the Doctor dared not think past his affection. Affection, he could control, he could remain friends with his companion.

He thought back to taking Rose to see her parents’ wedding, so soon after they’d first met and yet they had experienced so much together already. Though they’d been standing far off to the side, Rose had caught her mother’s bouquet. Embarrassed, she’d given it to the girl beside her. He’d smiled, glad that Rose wasn’t looking up, glad that she didn’t see the softness that spread across his face, glad that she couldn’t feel his hearts skipping beats like the stereotypical teenage girl in Earthly romcoms.

He couldn’t deny that they had chemistry. He was very attracted to her, a feeling that had only been strengthened during his regeneration. It was also now expected that most people believed the pair to be sexually and/or romantically linked. Even the TARDIS had joined the fun in this last item. She would redecorate whatever room that she thought would give the duo an opportunity to discuss their non-relationship relationship.

If everyone could see something sparking between the Doctor and his companion, then surely Rose must feel something for him, the way he felt for her.

**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

If they had been meant to be together, why had fate allowed her to be literally ripped from his side into the Void?

**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Rose, his brilliant pink and yellow human, united them once more. Fate had nothing to do with it; it was all Rose – perseverance, time, patience, and love.

**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Brought together once more, only for him to send her away again. The universe was cruel, but, at the same time, so kind. Perhaps it was fate. He’d said it himself, after all.

“You can spend the rest of your life with me, but I can’t spend the rest of mine with you. And that’s the curse of the Time Lords.”

Fate. The Doctor laughed hollowly. She was sealed in another universe with another him. It would have been scary to realize how accurate his statement had been, if he believed in fate.

He reminded himself that she would be happy. In the other universe. With her Mum, and Dad, and Mickey, and the Meta-Crisis. She’d be spending the rest of her life with a man who called himself the Doctor, with brown hair and sideburns, and a penchant for bananas. A man, with one heart and one life, who would tell her how special she is every day, who would kiss her at every opportunity, who would treasure every single moment because he knows what it’s like to live without her.


	57. A Moment in Time

His lips barely touch hers, he’s hesitant, but Rose can feel his cool breath on her mouth and she reaches up to stroke his hair, guiding his head closer to hers. He whispers her name and smiles, his brilliant blue eyes shining as they look at her. He blocks out everything except her, what she feels like at this moment in time. Her hands trail down his face, coming to rest on his breast, and she allows the sound of his double heartbeat to soothe her. She looks into his ancient steel-blue eyes and sees happiness and love and warmth; he looks into her young brown ones and sees the same. Their lips meet after what seems an eternity to Rose; the Doctor is aware of all twenty thousand milliseconds. He basks in the heat of her touch, she kisses him before he kisses her. They are both slow, tender. The sparks aren’t flying yet, but the embers come to life. His hands slowly move down her arms, taking her smaller hands within his own and raises them to his lips. His eyes never leaving hers, he kisses her hands. She wraps her arms around him, smiling, as he runs his hands over her arms. She realizes she truly, deeply loves him, her hand clutches at his jumper. The thought scares her, but she doesn’t dwell on it; she is safe as long as she’s with him. He realizes that he loves her, the thought terrifies him, but her hand moves, rubbing small circles on his shoulder under his jumper.


	58. Kiss Me

“Kiss me,” Rose asks hoarsely, licking her chapped lips. “Please.”

The Doctor knows before he turns to look at her that any attempt to deflect her is doomed. “Rose,” he says, his voice deep.

“Doctor.” She says his name, and he finally makes eye contact with her. “I need you to,” she pauses. “I thought that you said that you were still the same.”

With that, he crosses the console room and takes her in his arms. “I am,” he reassures her, pulling her close. Rose rests her head against his chest, feeling the familiar double heartbeat of a Time Lord. 

“He kissed me,” she says, and it breaks his hearts. Because he did kiss her. Even before the one that she shouldn’t remember, he kissed her. He kissed her forehead. He kissed her lips. They’d, he now realized too late, been building a relationship that was more that just friends. For once, the Doctor and his companion had been more than just travelling mates – they had been falling in love. As equals, as partners.

“Rose Tyler,” he bites his bottom lip, then breaks into a smile. He sees the future branching off, he sees his future, no, their future – a clear path straight ahead.

“Doctor,” she says, her voice questioning, unsure.

He says no more, and lightly peppers her face with kisses. Rose laughs, and stands on her toes to reach his lips.


	59. Truth or Dare

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Jack replied easily, leaning back in his chair so that the front legs were in the air.

“I dare you to stop flirting for ten minutes,” Rose snickered.

“What, come on. I thought that dares were supposed to be hard!” Jack whinged. “It’s only you and the Doc, anyway. I’d bet that it’s already been more than ten minutes since I last said something,” Jack clicked his tongue. “My turn. Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Rose pursed her lips in an effort not to laugh.

“I dare you to kiss the Doctor.” Jack said broadly.

“Truth, then.” Rose wrinkled her nose at Jack.

“Why won’t you just kiss him?” Jack grinned, pleased at having effectively placed Rose in a corner.

“Lots of reasons,” Rose replied evasively. Jack said nothing, but merely continued to smile knowingly. “He’s older than me.” She watched Jack’s expression carefully. “He’s an alien,” she shrugged. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Jack.”

“The truth. None of those seem to be deal breakers, you know?” Jack enjoyed winding his friend up, especially when trying to get her to act upon her romantic feelings for their travelling companion.

“Truth or dare?” Rose tried to changed the subject.

“Dare,” Jack said absently. “I think you should just go for it.”

“I dare you to shut up about me kissing the Doctor,” Rose said, exasperated.

Jack grimaced. “Fine.” They sat in amicable silence until the Doctor walked into the room. “Hey Doc,” Jack greeted him.

“Jack,” the Doctor acknowledged him. Jack looked at Rose. Rose glared at Jack. The Doctor obliviously peeled open a banana.

“Truth or dare, Doctor.” Jack deliberately did not phrase it as a question.

“That’s a silly game for human children,” the Doctor leaned against the wall with his banana.

“Come on, Doc! Am I the only one here who likes to have fun?” Jack sighed dramatically.

The Doctor met Rose’s eyes. She gave a small smile, as if telling him that it’d be best to simply indulge Jack. The Doctor chewed his bite of banana slowly and swallowed. “Dare, then.”

“I dare you to kiss one of us.” Jack knew that the Doctor would never choose him over Rose. It made him sad that he had no chance to be with either the Doctor or Rose, but they were his friends and he loved them dearly.

“What kind of a dare is that?” The Doctor protested.

“No takesie-backsies,” Jack sang annoyingly.

The Doctor thought for a moment. He then straightened and strode across the small galley to where Jack still had the front legs of his chair in the air, and pecked the other man’s forehead. Jack’s eyes widened. He hadn’t thought the Doctor to be so much a coward as to kiss him rather than Rose. His mouth flapped open and he scrambled to think of a new question.

“Why…”

“I believe it’s customary to take turns asking questions, Jack,” the Doctor said.

“Fine.” Jack crossed his legs, resting his hands on his face.

Silence ensued.

“Truth or dare, Jack?” Rose finally spoke up, twirling her stool.

“Dare,” Jack said once more.

“I dare you to not say anything that could possibly be considered an innuendo for the rest of the game.” Rose smirked.

“Rose.” Jack gasped. “Come on! That really blows, how else am I supposed to be witty? I’m on top of the game, here!”

Rose laughed, and even the Doctor’s mouth twitched. “Looks like you got a rise out of Jack with that one, Rose,” the Doctor said coyly.

It was too much for Jack. He burst into laughter, and covered half of his face with his hand. Trying, and failing, to calm down, he left the room. When he came back, it was apparent that Rose had just thoroughly snogged the Doctor. Though disappointed that he hadn’t been there to see it, Jack felt a sense of pride swell in his chest with how his friends seemed to be moving their relationship forward.


	60. Caught in the Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TimePetals 9/18/16-9/24/16 weekly prompt: Caught in the Rain

“You said it only rained here once a year,” Rose cried happily, as silver droplets fell softly from the purple sky.

“This isn’t rain,” the Doctor scoffed. “This is the normal weather; the annual rainfall is one of the most celebrated festivities on this planet. Though,” he checked his watch, “they have meteorology down to an exact science here and,” he paused.

The sunlit mauve clouds darkened to a bluer shade of violet and the sky opened up into a torrential storm. The plash of the water sounded as if cannons were firing in the middle of the street.

“It’s beautiful,” Rose breathed, awestruck.

“S rain,” the Doctor said nonchalantly, looking at his companion, whose eyes were widened with amazement. “They’ve got celebrations down in the village, if you wanted to go check it out. Didn’t have much time here, last visit,” he added quietly.

Rose hummed, staring up at the sky with fascination, her hand tightening its grip on the Doctor’s. As is often the case when presented with something extraordinary, Rose’s mind wandered. She was acutely aware of the Doctor’s cool hand clasping her own warmer one, both slick with rainwater.

“Doctor,” Rose whispered happily. He tilted his head to look at her, but she did not elucidate. Her smile was broad, her face angled toward the wet sky. She turned to look at him and he thought that her blinding smile was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

He kissed her. Not on the forehead or on her head, as he had done before. Her lips were soft and her honey eyes shone with a multitude of emotions – surprise, hope, warmth, love. Their lips stuck together, breaking only when Rose kissed him back.


	61. Things Said

“I said that I loved you.” The Doctor looked into Rose’s eyes earnestly. “I am the Doctor.” He deliberately refrained from mentioning the other man with the same name, same emotions, and, until recently, the same memories.

“He’s alone. If there’s one thing ‘e needs,” Rose broke off.

“And he’ll find someone.” The Doctor tried to keep his voice steady. If she was thinking of him, if she wanted- he refused to entertain such a thought.

“Did, you, cuz, me n’ ‘im,” Rose struggled to remain coherent, dropping more letters as her accent grew thicker with her intense emotions.

Silently, he opened his arms. Rose buried her face in his neck and the Doctor, relieved, pressed a soft kiss to her head.


	62. Freckles

Rose kissed his nose. “One,” she said seriously, trying not to giggle. “Two,” she pecked at another spot just slightly higher on his face. “Three,” she kissed his cheek, just under his right eye. “Four, five six,” she lightly flicked at each freckle with her tongue, especially where they were too close to kiss individually.

“Rose,” the Doctor mumbled groggily.

“Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.”

“Stop that,” he protested sleepily.

“Or what?” Rose continued to smatter his face with kisses. “I’m counting how many freckles you have, Doctor.” She giggled.

The Doctor rolled over so that he was on his stomach, though still facing Rose. “Or else,” he said, almost inaudibly.

“The Oncoming Storm, always so fierce,” Rose whispered, her tongue poking through her smile, before resuming her counting. “Eleven. Twelve,” she whispered sultrily.

The Doctor pulled Rose into his arms, holding her tight. “Good night, Rose,” his voice muffled by his pillow.

“Good night, my Doctor,” Rose rested her head on the Doctor’s chest, allowing the beating of his hearts to lull her to sleep.


	63. Intoxicating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Tentoo-sday!

“Doctor,” Rose breathes his name, and it sends shivers down his back. Their foreheads touching, her eyes closed, her lips parted so he can taste her breath. His heart beats faster, in anticipation, in excitement, with arousal. He says nothing, turning his head slightly so that it’s at just the right angle, while at the same time tracing the outline of her lips with his index finger. Strawberry lip gloss rubs onto his skin as Rose languorously kisses it. Her hands, he thinks, are heavenly, the way they massage and squeeze at his shoulders, and he hopes that Rose is at least half as satisfied as he. Her presence is intoxicating, and the Doctor’s head spins.

“Doctor.” Rose’s voice is insistent. “Doctor!”

He looks up and meets her eyes. Warm, half-lidded chocolate brown staring dreamily into worried, round hazel.

“Rose Tyler,” he says, and he is surprised to hear his voice rasp.

“No more respiratory bypass,” Rose says shakily, trying frame her words angrily.

“I love you,” he says, his head spinning from a lack of oxygen. He’s happy to see Rose’s features soften.

“I love you,” she replies; the Doctor can still hear the worry in her voice, the fear, fear of losing him again.

He kisses her again, twice more, a third kiss. Rose’s hand drifts lower to his back, rising and falling with each breath he takes.


	64. Outdoor Fall Activities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for fall fic fest week two on Tumblr.

“That one,” five-year-old Tony says seriously, walking over to the largest pumpkin that the Doctor can see. The Doctor looks from the pumpkin, to the small red wagon, to Tony’s proud smile.

“Okay,” he drags the word out. “Let’s get it in the wagon,” he says cheerfully, though he’s still eyeing the overgrown squash with distaste.

“Mummy ‘n Daddy ‘n Rose are waiting, Doctor,” Tony cries impatiently, watching as the Doctor sizes the pumpkin up, trying to decide how best to load it into the wagon. He knows as soon as he picks it up that there was a reason that nobody had picked this pumpkin. It caves in on him, spilling its innards over his plaid sweater, the ripe stench permeating the air.

“Maybe not this pumpkin,” the Doctor says faintly. Tony’s lip quivers.

“Pumpkin,” he says quietly.

“We’ll find another one,” the Doctor is quick to reassure the child, trying to stop the waterworks before they begin. He is, at least partially, successful. Tony is still put out by the implosion of the first overgrown fruit, though, and the Doctor goes through several different pumpkins to try to find the perfect one.

“This one,” he says, wrinkling his nose when Tony looks away. “Rose wants a nice pumpkin,” he wheedles. Tony adores his big sister.

“That one,” he points. The Doctor looks behind him and sees a small, white pumpkin.

“Alright-y then, Mr. Tony.” The Doctor grins, and they run (at Tony’s pace) to the pumpkin. It’s a lot smaller than the first, and it doesn’t smell. It’s relatively easy to load, and the Doctor snags a similarly sized orange pumpkin. He also takes a couple of smaller pumpkins – white Baby Boos and mini oranges.

Later that night, after the family has retired, the Doctor draws Rose outside.

“It’s freezing,” she laughs. “What’re we doin’, Doctor?”

He says nothing, merely leads her to their own pile of assorted decorative fruit. Tony is up in the house with Pete and Jackie, carving Jack-o-Lanterns. His Rose goes for a more domesticated approach, using the pumpkins as decorations adorning their garden. It ends with paper cut-outs on the floor and glitter in their hair, but, the Doctor surmises, an arm wrapped snugly around Rose’s waist, it is most definitely worth it. He presses a soft kiss to her hair; she’s leaning against him, and they’re standing next to Pete and Jackie outside the mansion, Tony’s Jack-o-Lantern proudly displayed against the front gate.


	65. Indoor Fall Activities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for fall fic fest week three on Tumblr.

“What’s this?” Rose walked in the doorway to their rooms to find the place had been almost completely redecorated.

“Just setting the mood,” the Doctor said cheerfully, lighting scented candles. He’d changed the shades, Rose noticed, putting up heavy red drapes where the yellow cascade curtains used to hang. The deep blues walls of the parlour seemed darker, though Rose found that she didn’t mind the change of mood, and in fact, found it fitting for the seasonal change. “I just thought, with the change of the seasons and everything, and I covered it all, well, Pete insisted, who was I to refuse, thought we might like, well, a change,” the Doctor said quickly. “Do you not like it? We can return everything, it’s fine, just experimenting,”

His incessant babbling was cut off.

“Mmff!” He was caught off guard, not that he minded, by the sudden contact of Rose’s lips upon his own. He kissed her back and held her tightly. “Do you like it?” He asked once more, this time in a whisper.

“Course I do, don’t be daft,” Rose murmured. She kissed him again, pushing him lightly towards the sofa.


	66. Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer's Day?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?  
> Thou art more lovely and more temperate.  
> Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,  
> And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.  
> Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,  
> And often is his gold complexion dimmed;  
> And every fair from fair sometime declines,  
> By chance, or nature’s changing course, untrimmed;  
> But thy eternal summer shall not fade,  
> Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,  
> Nor shall death brag thou wand’rest in his shade,  
> When in eternal lines to Time thou grow’st.  
>  So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,  
>  So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.”

When in eternal lines to Time thou grow’st.  
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,  
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.”

“What’s that?” Rose asked lazily from where she was lounging on the sofa.

“Shakespeare.” The Doctor smiled. “I met him, you know. Not too long ago, when I was travelling with Martha. Brilliant man, Shakespeare. He has a real way with words.”

“Something you’ve got in common then,” Rose replied cheekily.

“Minx,” the Doctor laughed. “No, actually I’ve met him before. Erhm, he is a genius, you know. Went to get some help solving a murder case from him back in my fifth incarnation. King Richard III, you know, was based on an actual man. He did such a brilliant job with the play, I thought he might help with the investigation. I met him twice in my first incarnation, actually. The first time was our first meeting for all parties involved… can’t say that about most times when you meet someone several times. Why, just look at yourself, Rose Tyler,” he grins, “I first met you in Henrick’s basement but you first met me in the church.”

“So you know the Bard,” Rose smiled.

“Well,” the Doctor drew out the single syllable. “The parallel version of him, at any rate. One parallel version.”

“Why am I not surprised,” Rose commented. “You know everybody. Shakespeare, Dickens, both Queen Elizabeths, I’m sure the list goes on.”

“You know what?” The Doctor asked quietly.

“What’s that, then?” Rose’s voice was light, lilting.

“I know you,” he smiled slowly, as if those were the most important words he had ever said.

Rose smiled, her tongue poking from between her teeth. “That you do.”

“Rose Tyler,” his smile grew wider.

“My Doctor,” Rose laughed.

“I. Love. You.” He said softly.

“I love you,” Rose replied simply. She kisses him lightly. He responds and she’s kissing him again. Each kiss is more passionate than the last. His hands work their way to her back and she’s gently rubbing the skin on his neck. Their mouths gently work away from the other’s and begin to explore, lightly kissing, nipping, sucking.


	67. Two

“Doctor! Look! At the scanner! There’s a person out there!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jamie. As I already told you, there’s no life on the planet for another five hundred years. That’s not even evolving to humanoid forms.”

“But I’m telling you there is someone. Just turn around at look at the scanner.” Out of the corner of his eye, the Doctor watched Jamie and caught a glimpse of the scanner. A young girl was fighting her way through the wasteland, silently calling out.

“Oh dear. This isn’t good. The planet itself is hostile now; I didn’t even mean to land the TARDIS in this time period. I can only wonder at how the girl came here.” The Doctor mused.

“Well, we’ve got to save her, haven’t we?” Jamie insisted. “There’s not supposed to be people here, you only just said so yourself.”

“Yes, yes,” the Doctor replied distractedly. “No! We can’t interfere, Jamie! She might be the first explorer to this world, researching and preparing for colonization.”

“But you just said there’s no life here for five hundred years!” Jamie protested. “I’m going to talk to her. She may be in trouble.”

“Jamie,” the Doctor stated plaintively, as his companion had already opened the doors. “Oh, very well,” he muttered, following the younger man onto the planet’s surface.

“Hello!” The Doctor called, waving his arms at the girl. He must get her to safety, his hearts were beating wildly in his chest. She couldn’t possibly have heard him, but she happened to look over to where the Doctor was standing. She was not so far away that he was able to see the expressions on her face and, unless he was much mistaken, her eyes lit with recognition. He frowned. Recognition. He vaguely recognized her himself, and yet he had no memory of meeting her. It would be next to impossible for nearly anyone he had met in his travels to chance upon him again – he lived in a time-and-space-ship. And hadn’t he just told Jamie not to interfere? What was he doing, calling out?

While he had been trapped in his thoughts, she had closed the distance between them at a run. Young, blonde, she was looking at him, no past him at the TARDIS and she most definitely knew that it was not a police box.

“Who are you, then?” The Doctor asked brusquely. She had no business being on this planet, and he didn’t like the way she was appraising the TARDIS.

“M looking for my friend.” The girl said simply. She looked longingly at the TARDIS.

“Yes, well, they can’t be in there,” the Doctor said hurriedly. He didn’t want her to open the door and have to be told about the TARDIS.

“My friend, he’s…a traveller.” The girl said nonchalantly, though the Doctor was able to detect a hint of emotion in her indifference.

“Aren’t we all?” His curiosity was piqued, despite himself.

“Thing is, we got separated. And I’m trying to find him.” There was something in her eyes that the Doctor was unable to read. Love and loss were quite plain, but there was something more, something…unfamiliar. Her eyes flickered once more toward the TARDIS.

“That’s just an old empty box,” the Doctor said gruffly. “What are you doing on this planet in the first place? There’s a Level Two Quarantine.”

“Accident, I s’pose. Can’t really control where I end up, ‘m using a homing device.” She said cryptically.

“It can’t be a very good one, can it? The only thing on this desolate planet is that old box.” While he was speaking, she was walking past him and before he could stop her, she laid her hand on the wooden panelling.

And gasped, quite clearly, in relief.

“The TARDIS,” she breathed.

“How do you know about the TARDIS?” The Doctor sputtered.

“How does she know about the TARDIS?” Jamie uttered at the same moment as the Doctor. He looked from the scanner to the door. He considered going out, but Zoe held him back.

“Wait.” She said quietly. Jamie nodded. It would not do to give themselves away if this woman was, indeed, a threat. While in the TARDIS, they had the upper hand.

“I’m from the future,” the woman sighed. “I came so far,” she whispered despondently.

“Are you looking for me?”

The woman bit her bottom lip and smiled. “I’ve crossed the multiverse,” she admitted.

“But you’re human!” The Doctor exclaimed.

“Yep,” she popped the ‘p’, though there was no humour in her expression. “You’re the Doctor,” she said quietly, and the Doctor saw that her eyes were watering. “I’m coming back,” she whispered, her lips trembling.

“Coming back from where? Tell me, I can contact my future self and he’ll come to pick you up,” the Doctor tried to convince her to tell him more.

“You can’t,” she blinked hurriedly, as though she were determined not to cry.

“At least allow me to escort you off-planet. It’s not safe here,” the Doctor wheedled. She was truly a mystery, giving him hints as to her identity.

“I can get back with this. It’s almost through re-charging.”

“Who are you?”

She shook her head. “Doctor,” she whispered his name, before looking down at the device.

She kissed him, her lips longingly seeking familiarity against his, her hand pressed to his cheek, her forehead pressing against his as she broke it.

“Who are you?” He asked once more, as she pressed the device and disappeared.


	68. Thankful

Just because Vitex was hosting a dinner for their American partners, that didn’t mean they had to indulge American culture and ‘celebrate’ Thanksgiving, the Doctor groused silently, when he realized that Pete (and everyone else) was looking expectantly at him. He cleared his throat.

“One thing you’re thankful for,” Rose whispered, holding back a smile.

There were a good many things he was thankful for, but it took him three point seven minutes to verbalize one that was appropriate; though he was certain that Rose (the minx) knew what was filtering through his mind. She kissed his cheek, smirking.


	69. First Night

It’s the Doctor’s first night away from Rose in the new universe. Just for the day, Pete had told him earlier. Look, I know it’s not ideal, but if all goes to plan, you should be back in England by seven. He wonders why he agreed to Pete’s plan. It was far from ideal, going out of the country to promote Vitex. But he had, apparently, been mopey the past few days and Rose, Jackie, and Pete had thought the new environment would do wonders for him.

Rose did not come. It’s just for the day, she’d reminded him. We’ll be here tonight. She’d kissed him lightly, her lips gone far too soon.

Fourteen misplaced documents, one car that ran out of petrol, and two headaches later, the Doctor had been forced to check into a motel for the night. Logically, he knows that attempting to get home without stopping could, potentially, be extremely dangerous. It was so much safer to rest, and start fresh in the morning. But Rose isn’t here and the bed is too cold and the cheap motel room is too stuffy. He dreams longingly of soft pink bedsheets and the solid four-poster in their bedroom. He dreams of a warm pink and yellow human, curled up beside him and buried under the covers. The night passes slowly; he watches the minutes tick away on the face of his mobile.

He awakens early, his back sore from the uncomfortable mattress. The water in the shower is freezing against his cool skin. He dresses quickly, his tie dangling loosely from his neck.

The trip home takes ages, three hours and forty-two minutes spent driving in the pounding rain. He’s lucky, he thinks, to have travelled as far as he did yesterday. There’s that much less time and distance between himself and Rose. He could have taken a zeppelin and not stayed the night, but had the previous day gone to plan, he would have been home around midnight last night. More than eight hours later, he’s finally pulling in to the driveway at the Tyler Estate. Tired and feeling more than a little under the weather, the Doctor heads straight for his and Rose’s rooms. He opens the door and she’s sprawled across the bed, a novel resting on her chest. The door had creaked when it opened and she raised her head.

She’s in his arms. Her face, buried in his neck. “I missed you,” she whispers, her voice fragile. He missed her. He inhales deeply, allowing her scent to completely envelope him. Dead on his feet, he stands there, happy to be home.


	70. Of Things Yet to Come

Rose Tyler was thinking about the Doctor again. The Oncoming Storm. He wasn’t a conventionally attractive man, with his disproportionate ears and nose, closely cropped hair, and a battered leather jacket that must have seen at least one better day.

Rose walked aimlessly through the TARDIS’ corridors, eventually winding up in the console room. She had loved the TARDIS, and how there were so many rooms packed into a small police box; there was a sense of freedom. Freedom to go anywhere in the universe, but also the feeling like anything could happen inside the time machine. Nowhere made her feel happier than the TARDIS.

Having settled on the jumpseat, she looked up to see the Doctor entering the room. She smiled unconsciously. The Doctor. For all his gruff outward appearances, Rose saw in him a man whose heart was several sizes too large. Hearts, she corrected herself.

His soft blue eyes were trained on the console, his hands fiddling with the controls.

‘We're falling through space, you and me, clinging to the skin of this tiny little world. And, if we let go...’

He had never said what would happen if it was her heart that fell.

She wondered what it would be like to kiss him. She’d kissed boys in the past, but they had been boys. She’d had a crush on Keisha’s brother, then the fiasco with Jimmy, then Mickey. She wasn’t inexperienced, but she wasn’t experienced either. She’d never, she realized, ever truly been in love before. And then she’d met the Doctor.


	71. Chapter 71

Her life had been nothing before she’d met the Doctor. Work, chips, and football matches on the telly. And then he’d taken her hand and told her to run and they hadn’t stopped. He was moody and arrogant and an alien. Was it any wonder that she most certainly was not in any way falling in love with him?

“Rose! Can you hear me? Rose!” His strong Northern accent bores into her head like a drill.

“M fine,” she tries to say, trying to lift her hand to wave him off. Her hand doesn’t move. He stares at her, his eyes alight with worry and concern. Course he’s concerned, she tells herself. He had just found her lying in a damp tunnel by herself, after all.

He shucks his jacket and removes his jumper. Rose furrows her brow in confusion. As much as she’d like to go all the way with the Doctor, now is most certainly not the time or place. She hisses in pain when he presses the jumper to her thigh; she looks down to see blood seeping through the woolen material.

“I’m taking you back to the TARDIS,” he says quietly. Rose does not protest. He does not speak again until they’re in the infirmary. She wobbles on her injured leg, her arm wrapped securely around the Doctor’s waist. She finally gets her hands on him, and it’s only because she needs the support to walk, she thinks.

“The people –” she gasps. “We can’t just leave them.”

She sees the Oncoming Storm brewing in his eyes. “We can. They hurt you, Rose. Intentionally.” He won’t forgive them easily.

“M just a stupid ape,” she reminds him lightly. And bites back a cry as the pain in her leg burns.

“Don’t say that. Ever again,” he says darkly. “I was wrong to say that to you,” his voice is gruff. “Rose Tyler is fantastic.”

“Not until I’d met you,” she grins. The sight of her beautiful smile makes him want to melt, but he shakes his head stoically. “Doctor,” she says his name, and nothing else.

“Yes?” He smiles indulgently, though there his eyes are still stormy.

Rose doesn’t say any more. “Nothing,” she finally speaks. The Doctor does not reply. He’s being irrational, she thinks. He hadn’t struck her as the kind of man who would let people suffer. And yet here he is, walking away from the conflict.

He wonders why she is so insistent on helping these people. They had already done all they could, and Rose had been injured in return. Leaving now helped secure the best future timeline for all parties involved, including himself and his companion. He finishes running the osteo-regenerator over her leg.

“Good as new,” he remarks, helping Rose off the table. It would be so easy to kiss her, he thinks longingly. Bend down seven point zero eight six six one two inches exactly. A simple touch of his hand on her face. His bloodstained jumper lays discarded on the ground. She takes his hand. Their fingers thread together seamlessly. He looks into her warm brown eyes tells himself that he is imagining the yearning he sees there.

It would be so easy to kiss him; Rose looks up longingly. Cup his neck, guide his face down so that his lips could meet hers. Dressed in a just a maroon tee shirt, his toned arms are no longer left to her imagination. She tells herself that she is over exhausted, that she is projecting her own wants onto his face, that there’s no way that his blue eyes are actually looking at her so warmly. She intertwines her fingers with his and they walk to the library in companionable silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did actual math to see how much taller Chris is than Billie. Also, David has 6/100ths of a foot on Chris (.06 feet = about ¾ of an inch). According to Google.


	72. Realizations

Rose enters the TARDIS quietly, hoping to head straight for her room unnoticed. Of course, when your shipmate has ‘superior Time Lord biology’, that makes stealth of little use.

“Thought you were going down to the pub with Rickey,” a Northern voice says quietly from the jumpseat. The lights on the console flicker, as if to tell the Doctor to bugger off.

“I did,” Rose replies stiffly, pressing a hand to her mouth. “I broke up with him.” A single tear drips down her face.

“Oh,” the Doctor is surprised, he doesn’t know how to respond to this new scrap of information.

“It just… we weren’t right together. He’s my best mate, we’ve known each other since we were kids, but we’re just not right for each other.” She deliberately fails to mention the fact that she has since fallen head over heels for the alien sitting on the jumpseat.

“Oh,” the Doctor wonders if there is a chance for her to see him as more than just a mate. He may be an alien, but he was still a bloke and there was something about Rose Tyler that made his hearts flutter. “You’ll be alright,” he says bracingly. “Rickey the Idiot wasn’t right for you, anyway.” He hadn’t meant to utter the last bit out loud.

Rose shuddered. “It’s Mickey,” she sighs. “And how do you know that he wasn’t ‘right’ for me? What sort of a man would you suggest?” The last bit is said a bit playfully. Banter. Something light would do her a world of good. And possibly make her hate him forever.

“Well,” he said, with mock consideration. “Think you need someone a bit more mature. Older. Distinguished-type,” he nodded.

“Yeah?” Rose breathed. “Tell me more?”

“Good-looking.”

“Someone like Jack, you mean?” Her tongue is peeking through her grin.

“Nah.” He can feel his own grin coming on. “Someone with class.”

“Definitely feeling Jack,” she laughs at the double entendre.

The Doctor is still trying to find a way to approach the fact that he loves her, that he’s fallen for her, that he doesn’t care that he’s nine hundred and she’s nineteen, that she’s special, that she is perfect.

“Oh,” Rose says softly, and he realizes that he’s said all of this aloud. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his jacket and has started backing away when her hands seize his wrists and her eyes are looking into his with the most wondrous expression. And then she murmurs, “I thought it was just me.”

When her lips touch his, it’s soft and tender, languorous. They take their time exploring the other, hands running over arms and entwining in hair, foreheads and noses bumping, soft giggles and warm hums. Blue eyes looking lovingly into brown, three heartbeats fluttering.


	73. Sacrifice

He had sacrificed so much. He wouldn’t lose her. He refused to lose her. The Time War had left him broken; Rose Tyler was all he had in the universe – Rose and the TARDIS. Time burned all around them, moments becoming fixed points. The longer she burned, the closer she edged to becoming fixed. Bad Wolf was already a fixed point in time, he wouldn’t allow Rose Tyler’s death to become one as well.

The power’s gonna kill you and it’s my fault! The vortex was killing her; she knew it as well as he.

I think you need a Doctor, he held her in his arms when she collapsed. He had saved her, giving up his all-too-short tenth life so that he would not have to face the future in solitude. Shiver and Shake would be back, each with the other’s hand to hold. He needed her. The Oncoming Storm and the Bad Wolf, for Rose was the Bad Wolf, Rose had always been the Bad Wolf. He hesitated only slightly before kissing her. He took on the Time Vortex in his mind, he was already holding her in his arms, there was no need to kiss her. But he wanted to. He was in love with Rose Tyler. And he was so certain that she was in love with him. My Doctor. She had erased the Daleks from time itself to save him. She had done so much for him. She had done so much to heal him. Regenerating for her, it was the least he could do.


	74. Just a Kiss

Had he ever truly kissed Rose Tyler before today? The metacrisis Doctor wondered during the trip back to the hotel. Kissing generally required more than one willing participant. She had kissed his helmet’s face plate on the planet where he had, quite possibly, literally met the devil. Rose’s lips had kissed his when Cassandra had taken over her mind. He had kissed her to strengthen the mental link between them when he had removed the time vortex from her mind. That, he thought, should count but for the fact that Rose could never remember it. And before that, everything had been chaste – a kiss, brief but emotive, on her forehead when he had sent her away, tricked her into leaving him to face the Daleks alone; he remembered one such kiss1, after Rose (his clever girl) had figured out how to get around GENIE and un-made him from stone. Once. He was so grateful. Before today, he had kissed Rose Tyler. Once. It was a good once. And she (hopefully) remembered. It wasn’t the sort of thing that one forgot, being passionately kissed. Or rather, he hoped it wasn’t.

A warm hand on his brought him out of his reverie.

“Doctor.”

He looked down into warm hazel eyes and smiled. “Yeah?”

“I’m so glad I met you,” she squeezed his hand; he thought that his single heart might burst, so swollen with love was it.

“Me too,” he did what he had been too much a coward to do for far too long, he kissed her. Short and sweet, wishing that he had had the courage to that when she had said that first time, back in Cardiff. It seemed that a lot of this life was to be spent kissing Rose Tyler. After all, that was how it started, this new life of theirs. Together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 The Stone Rose


	75. Under the Influence

“Rose, even forgetting my actual age, I look old enough to be your father.” The Doctor protested weakly.

Rose shushed him, kissing him languorously, her eyes full of love, love for him, and fear, fear of rejection.

“Rose,” he said again. He wanted her, like she obviously wanted him. Yet here he was, trying to stop her from ‘taking advantage’ of him.

He hadn’t meant to land on the planet, a hundred years before it had been outlawed to give off natural pheromones. If they had landed in the correct time, the aliens that gave off the pheromones would have been required to use pheromone masks that kept the pheromones safely under control, with no harm to the user.

Rose Tyler wanted him. He told himself that it was because of the surrounding influences, purposely forgetting that pheromones across all species only amplified existing emotions. Rose Tyler wanted him, but she was under the influence. Her wish was his command, but he could not grant her wish in these circumstances.

“Doctor,” she moaned. He’d wanted her to say his name like that for ages and it was slowly torturing him that he couldn’t…

“Back to the TARDIS,” he said, more curtly than he’d meant to. Rassilon, she was not making it easy for him to refuse her. Normally one for holding hands, Rose was positively clinging to his arm. He didn’t say a word the walk back, not because he was angry or hurt, but because that required air and air meant he needed to stop using his respiratory bypass.

Once inside, Rose clung to him still. He’d extricated his arm from her grasp to put the TARDIS back into the vortex and she’d merely moved in closer still, her arms encircling his waist underneath his jacket, her head resting against his chest. Away from the planet, the pheromones would dissipate harmlessly back into the air.

“What am I going to do with you,” he murmured, too low for Rose to hear. He led her to the library, intending for her to sleep the rest of the pheromones off on the sofa. She pulled him onto the sofa with her and burrowed into his side. Despite the circumstances, the Doctor smiled. He shifted slightly so his head was elevated and looked down at his companion. She was beginning to drift off and her arm flopped lazily over his middle.

“Rose Tyler,” he whispered softly. What was he to do? She had enchanted him, a beacon of hope in his terrible darkness. Her timeline, pink and golden, shimmered. It was drifting impossibly close to his. Swallowing his fears, the Doctor pulled her a little closer; she instinctively responded.

“My Doctor,” she was still asleep, but she spoke the words as if she were awake. They rang clearly in the Doctor’s head. My Doctor. He was hers, he knew already, his hearts belonged to her.


	76. Perfect Blue

His eyes are swirling orbs of perfect shades of blue. Bright, shining baby blue, alight when he’s happy; swirling steel blue when the Oncoming Storm presents itself. Soft or hard, his eyes are beautiful. She can see forever in them, and when he looks at her, she thinks that, just maybe, there’s a hint of something beyond friendly affection in them.

She thinks about the depths in his eyes, how they go on forever. How he can see forever; how he has seen forever. She thinks about the rough whiskers that brush against her hand when he doesn’t shave. She thinks about his lips, pink and perfectly kissable. Her own lips part slightly in anticipation.

When they finally kiss, blue eyes are open, looking lovingly at her. Her own eyes close, half-lidded, as she savours the taste of him.


	77. Lost in the Crowd

Letting go of your companion’s hand in the midst of a milling crowd was never a good idea. Letting go of the hand of your companion, who had a tendency to wander off by herself and get into trouble, always led to, usually problematic, consequences. It had been exactly eighty-seven seconds since the Doctor had fully realized that Rose’s hand was not entwined in his; he had since retraced his footsteps exactly back.

“Pink and yellow, about so high,” he explained to various persons. None of them had seen her. His hearts constricted in his chest, endless possible timelines opening up in his mind.

“Rose!” His voice was tight. He was worried. Jeopardy-friendly, Rose Tyler was.

“M right here,” she laughed, her bubbly enthusiasm easily wearing away the Doctor’s gruff concern. She easily loped back, effortlessly slipping her hand back around his. “S’alright, yeah?” She grinned, her tongue poking out from between her teeth, just slightly off to her left.

“Course,” he replied roughly, not wanting to show the more-than-friendly concern he has felt.

“Are you alright?” She asked, now concerned for him, and he lies through his teeth with a smile when he affirms her statement. Of course he hadn’t been all right, Rose had wandered off and could have gotten into serious trouble, or worse. Rose is still looking at him and he sighs. She goes to him immediately, hugging him, as if to say ‘yes, I truly am fine.’ His hearts tighten in his chest whenever he even thinks about the possibility of losing her, and the feeling has nothing to do with what would happen to him if anything ever happened to Jackie Tyler’s daughter. Almost nothing.

Rose obviously sensed that something was off, but, the Doctor thought gratefully, decided not to pursue it. They followed the meandering road through the village, slowly making their way back to the TARDIS. He doesn’t know that Rose had wanted desperately to kiss him when they’d been reunited back in the market, for no reason other than to say hello. He doesn’t know that she was falling for him as hard, fast, and deeply as he was falling for her. If he had, perhaps he would have been more aware of the timeline that is now lost forever, where he and Rose…


	78. The Warrior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Let’s just say that the timeline is…timey-wimey.

Rose dived for cover. Breathing hard, she looked at her surroundings; Daleks were everywhere. This, she thought, was definitely not good.

“What are you doing here?” A gravelly voice spoke from behind her. Rose turned to look at him.

“M looking for someone,” she said, as simply as she could. Her breath was short, her blue jacket dusty.

“But how did you get here?” The man persisted. “It’s nearly impossible for a human to suddenly be transported to the middle of the War.”

The War. There were Daleks everywhere, this was “the Time War,” Rose breathed, pressing a hand to her lips, her eyes widening, her breath growing ragged.

The man looked at her in surprise. “You’re human,” he said.

“Yeah,” Rose answered, her voice faint. The Time War. This was the Doctor before she’d met him. Right before she’d met him. His face was hardened, his eyes fatigued; an old warrior, weary of the fighting. Instinctively, she pulled him in for an embrace. He was wearing the leather jacket, the material familiar against her skin. He stiffened at the unexpected physical contact, though when it became clear that she was not about to let go, he relaxed slightly.

“Who are you?” He questioned.

“M…” Rose thought back to all the other Doctors she’d met while trying to find her way back. The old man who travelled with his granddaughter. The man with the Beatles haircut, who had been determined to see her off safely. The young man with green eyes and a bright red bow-tie, who had softly cried when he’d kissed her. The Scotsman who had swept her off her feet and told her his name. “M comin’ back,” she said simply, though tears threatened to spill over.

The Warrior looked at her, a tiny, insignificant human who had managed to find herself in the midst of the Time War. “For whom?” He asked quietly.

“My Doctor,” she replied, softly but emphatic.

He scoffed at that. “There is no Doctor. Not anymore,” he said, almost inaudibly.

She smiled sadly. “There will be. The universe needs you.” I need you.

“The universe needs a Doctor.” The Warrior said brusquely.

“The universe needs the Doctor,” Rose corrected him softly. Her voice is almost tender when she says the name he once went by.

The human is still resting against his chest, her head and her hand over his hearts.

She presses a soft kiss to his cheek. Her device is flashing. “I’ve got to go now. But I’m comin’ back,”

“Who are you,” he interrupts, his voice the most vulnerable she’s heard.

She laughs then, but her eyes fill with tears. “Rude and not ginger,” she smiles, pressing a hand to her mouth. She disappears into the air and the Warrior stares at where she once stood.

It’s not until he’s about to regenerate that he realizes that she was the Bad Wolf girl whose form the Moment had chosen.


	79. Lost Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iBTYcqtaOjg  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vt2YIpZWBqA  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3eT464L1YRA  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q9ayN39xmsI  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dN1rKKmOAm4

“Can I have this dance?” Jack’s smooth American accent cut through the music.

“Rose?” The Doctor turned to his partner, offering her the choice. Your wish is my command.

“One dance,” she agreed, and Jack cut in on her. Rose leaned against the railing, watching as Jack twirled the Doctor into his arms. The American was more flamboyant in his dancing than the Time Lord, though they kept up with the other very well. Jack leaned in to whisper something into the Doctor’s ear and his expression turned bittersweet; Jack gave him a meaningful look, which Rose did not see. At the end of the song, she applauded and the Doctor turned back to her.

“Rose Tyler,” he offered her his hand, his old grin back.

“Doctor,” she smiled in anticipation. The TARDIS started playing Glenn Miller’s In the Mood and they began to dance. Like their first dance, the Doctor and Rose Tyler were soon blissfully and completely unaware of their surroundings. They set their own slow, tender tempo that didn’t quite match the song; the Doctor and Rose Tyler dancing, completely lost in their own world. The music cadenced, but the Doctor and Rose’s dance continued, slowing until they were barely moving. It was hard for Jack to tell whose hands had moved first, but both were now holding the other by the waist, gently swaying.

They were, Jack mused, too innocent to take their dancing further. They spoke of dancing, not of intimacy or sex; the Doctor far too reserved in his exuberance, Rose too naïve to solidly notice the Doctor’s interest. Her name melodiously rolled off the Doctor’s tongue, so sweetly in contrast to his previous snarky witticisms or sharp anger.

The tension, Jack decided, was so thick that one would need the sharpest knife in the drawer to cut it. It really was unbelievable how they could be so blatantly attracted to each other and yet not initiate anything more intimate than dancing. He watched, a smile gracing his features, as the pair navigated their way around the console. They were beautiful together, and he was certain that they would be beautiful together if they would progress their relationship.

Jack watched as they slow danced. The TARDIS continued to play soft jazz – ‘Tuxedo Junction’, eventually segueing to ‘Lady in Red’, ‘Heaven’, ‘A Thousand Years’. The Doctor and Rose danced, barely aware of the changing music. Jack reclined on the jump seat, content to watch them, lost together.


	80. Her Knight in Shining...Leather

He was far from the most conventionally handsome man she had ever seen. The first time she'd met him, he had saved her life. Her knight in shining armor, an old wanderer in battered leather. She wouldn't have him any other way. Though this was real life, not a fairy tale. He wasn't a prince, and she wasn't a princess. There was no royal wedding, or even a kiss. There was the Doctor. A man who had shown her a world far bigger than she'd ever imagined possible. A man who had taken her by the hand and never let go.  
The Doctor. A man so shrouded in mystery, bearing a title instead of a name, who lived in a blue box that was larger on the inside. A man who intrigued her. A man who had shown her the universe.

The way he'd say her name. Rose Tyler, it would roll off his tongue, slightly lengthened vowels. She dreamed about him nightly, long dreams after a day spent holding his hand.  
She wondered what it would be like to kiss him. Ancient and forever, she was insignificant next to him, and yet here she was, travelling the universe together. She wondered if his lips had ever touched another's. Logically, she knew that he must have, once at least over the course of nine hundred years.

'Nine hundred years old, me. I think it's safe to say that at some point I've 'danced'." He had said that night. For all their talk of dancing, they hadn't so much as pecked the other's lips. Their relationship was odd; they had very easily slipped into something that fit Rose's preconceptions concerning marriage, and yet there had been little build towards it. 'You could come with me,' and she had run away with him. Always holding hands, silly arguments over whose turn it was to wash up the tea, domestic bickering over going to visit her mother, lazy film nights in the media room or reading together in the library. He was more domestic than he liked to admit.

"Kip on the sofa, if you want," a deep voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Doctor," she mumbled, opening her eyes blearily.

"It's alright," he said, watching as she struggled to right herself.

"Hello," Rose tried to smile. The Doctor's own smile was quick to appear.

"Hello."

Rose shifted on the sofa, obviously making room for the Doctor beside her. He took his seat in companionable silence.

He was gorgeous, Rose thought, snuggling in close, using his side as a pillow. His jumper was soft on her skin and the thrumming of his double heartbeat calmed her. Dum! da da, Dum! da da.

Her Doctor had shown her a better life and she would take as full advantage of it as possible.

"You're quiet tonight," the Doctor said softly, interrupting her reverie.

"Guess m just thinkin'," Rose replied vaguely. Thinking about how soft his jumpers were, how blue his eyes were, how kissable his face looked.

"Anything in particular?" He queried, not anticipating that he was the subject her musings.

Rose shrugged. "I s'pose not."

They were quiet for a moment.

"Rose-"

"Doctor-"

They both broke off at the same moment, each with smile starting.

Rose reached for his hand, interlacing her fingers with his. She lay still on her side, her head in his lap, her free hand drawing patterns on the tops of his jeans. His other hand worked its way to her hair, gently twisting and stroking it. They were the picture of contentment, the Doctor and Rose Tyler.

She allowed her hand to wander, a straight line up until her hand was resting on his heart. Rose had never wanted to kiss the Doctor more than when it was the two of them, away from worlds that needed saving, enjoying a rare moment of solitude.


	81. A Thousand Years

_Heart beats fast.  Colors and promises.  How to be brave, how can I love when I'm afraid to fall?_   She was so young, so beautiful, so pure.  Only nineteen years old, this pink and yellow human was burning herself onto his hearts.

 _But watching you stand alone, All of my doubt, Suddenly goes away somehow.  One step closer_ … Her face lit up brilliantly when she smiled.  He smiled in response automatically, reaching for her hand, craving the physical contact and the way she made him feel.

 _I have died every day, waiting for you.  Darlin' don't be afraid, I have loved you for a Thousand years.  I'll love you for a Thousand more._ Nine hundred years he’d lived before meeting her, and he’d likely live at least a quarter that again.

 _Time stands still, beauty in all she is.  I will be brave, I will not let anything Take away What's standing in front of me.  Every breath, Every hour has come to this.  One step closer…_ The Time Lord is all too aware of every second that passes, another moment gone in her all-too short human lifespan.  Too much a coward, he can barely admit to himself how hard he’s fallen for his companion.

 _And all along I believed, I would find you.  Time has brought, Your heart to me, I have loved you for a Thousand years.  I'll love you for a Thousand more._   He wouldn’t remember it for another regeneration, but the form that the Moment had assumed had been hers.  Time had made her into the Bad Wolf, and inserted her in his timeline a regeneration before he’d met her.

 _One step closer.  One step closer…_ Their relationship progressed slowly.  A kiss on the forehead, any excuse to hug, always holding hands.

 _I have died every day, Waiting for you.  Darlin' don't be afraid, I have loved you for a Thousand years.  I'll love you for a Thousand more_.  The choice had been simple.  Watch Rose Tyler die, or regenerate.  Taking the Vortex from her mind with a kiss, he indulged himself with the most romance he had shown his companion.  He had only hoped that his regeneration would go smoothly, that his next incarnation wouldn’t have completely different feelings, that his next incarnation might not be so much a coward when it came to his feelings as he was.

 _And all along I believed I would find you.  Time has brought Your heart to me, I have loved you for a Thousand years_.   She had found him.  He had sent her away, but she had come back.

 _I'll love you for a Thousand more._ She was permanently seared onto his hearts.  Regeneration hadn’t changed that, and neither would his next.  The Doctor and Rose Tyler belonged together, despite the odds stacked against them.  She’d held his hand on the beach as the TARDIS dematerialized.  He may not have a thousand years left, but he would love her the rest of his human life.  He may have a thousand years or more left, and he would never forget her.


	82. Banana Chocolate Cake

Banana chocolate cake was a delicious flavour, Rose begrudgingly admitted. Baking it, however, had been worth every second to see the Doctor’s reaction to her ‘masterpiece’. He had been completely gobsmacked, the loon.

It was the first anniversary, as near as she could reckon, of the part Time Lord’s metacrisis; the first anniversary of the newest ideation of the Doctor and Rose Tyler. She was completely certain that she had missed the true date, though she knew that he wouldn’t be bothered in the least by it. Time, after all, was relative; and time flowed faster in this universe.

Banana chocolate cake was a delicious flavour, especially when she was kissing the frosting off the corners of his mouth.


	83. 30 Seconds til Midnight

John didn’t know who she was or where she’d come from. But it was thirty seconds until midnight, and they’d been dancing together for the last ten minutes at the New Year’s party. He smiled, pleased that he had allowed Sarah to drag him along. The music stopped and the crowd started chanting, counting down the final seconds of the year.

“Happy New Year,” she whispered, pulling his head down so that she could kiss his lips. An innocent kiss, but to John it felt as though an million possibilities had suddenly opened. He yearned to leave, to run away from the loud atmosphere, the girl’s hand in his. Their fingers naturally locked together, their hands fitting perfectly like a puzzle piece.

“I bet you’re going to have a really great year,” he said quietly, a humorous smile lighting up his face as he passed her a scrap of paper. She tucked the paper safely away in her zippered pocket.

“Yeah?” Her smile was dazzling.


	84. First Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TimePetals Prompt: First Christmas

It had been a year of firsts, for the Doctor and Rose. His first moments without the TARDIS in his head, his first moments as man with a finite lifespan, the first time he wasn’t afraid of losing her any longer. Their first kiss on that beach. Their first wedding on Earth, with their family. His first family, since before. His first time being willingly tethered to one place. His first time enjoying domestic life. Their first kiss as proper newlyweds. And now, the end of their first year approached.

Christmas was only a few weeks away. The Doctor wondered what sort of Christmas he would have in Pete’s world. The first Christmas he could remember experiencing had been in his first body, he had been with Sara and Steven. Trying to escape from the Daleks, they’d landed in the sixties. He’d been taken in for questioning by the police, he remembered with wry amusement, and then they’d met Charlie Chaplin, and Bing Crosby. He’d actually met Bing Crosby, the musician whose recording of the song ‘White Christmas’ was so popular that he had to re-record the song as the original had been damaged because it had been copied so many times. And then they had gotten into trouble with the Monk, and Daleks, and the Time Destructor…his Christmases hadn’t gotten much better. Although, the first Christmas, before people had known about Christmas, he had been able to secure himself shelter.

His first Christmas with Rose, there had been the Gelth. His second Christmas with Rose, he’d been in a regenerative coma. And then there had been his first meeting with Donna, the Webstar and Racnoss. The Titanic over Buckingham Palace. The almost-return of the Time Lords (his people weren’t dead, but he wondered what was better – believing them to be dead, or knowing that it was he who sealed them into an alternate dimension?)

Was the world going to end this Christmas, as it almost had so many times on the Earth of their original universe? He didn’t know, but he knew that whatever happened, Rose would be right there, holding his hand.

“Doctor,” Rose poked her head in the door. “Want to help?” She had an armful of Christmas wrapping paper, and ribbons, and tissue paper, and bags.

This Christmas, the Doctor thought, was going to be amazing. “Yeah,” he plucked a sticker from Rose’s load and put it on the ceiling. “But first,” he was going to kiss Rose Tyler under the mistletoe (for the first time this season).


	85. May I have this dance?

“May I have this dance, Dame Rose?” His face his drawn, but his eyes are already alight with untempered energy.

“Sir Doctor,” Rose extended her arm and he took her hand. His eyes didn’t leave hers as he bent to press the softest kiss to her bare hand.

They had been ‘knighted’ (the local equivalent) by the Royal Consul, in return for rescuing the Prince, heir to the planetary throne.

The dance was easy enough to follow. The Doctor was, Rose thought, appearing to be almost completely smitten by her. They had, of course, pretended to be married; it was illegal for a woman to travel uncovered unless she was with her husband and Rose didn’t have anything to cover her head with. As usual, one thing led to another, and they had wound up investigating a plot to take out the entire extended Royal Consul, the Prince having been the first target.

Rose lifted their clasped hands to her mouth and kissed his knuckles. “A most wonderful dance, Sir Doctor,” she said quietly, deferring to the tradition of complimenting one’s dance partner.

“Lovely as ever, Dame Rose.” The Doctor nodded towards the exit. “Getting a little stuffy in here, don’t you agree?”

“Quite so, Sir Doctor.” Rose’s eyes were smiling.

“We could slip out. Get some fresh air. Head back… home.”

“We really ought to say goodbye,” Rose gestured back towards the Prince.

“Oh, well, all right.” The Doctor scratched his neck awkwardly.

“Come on,” Rose laughed. “Your Royal Holiness, we, that is to say, Sir Doctor of TARDIS and myself, really should be on our way, if we wish to make it back to TARDIS.”

“Oh, but I shall have a room prepared immediately,” the Prince insisted. “The dance shall continue. It is tradition of our people to dance until we can dance no more.”

“Rose?”

“May I have this dance?”


	86. Mistletoe

“And I suppose the pair of you will just disappear in time and forget about Christmas,” Jackie said derisively.

“Well,” the newly-regenerated Doctor scratched his head. Blimey, he thought, there was a lot of hair there. He combed it forward experimentally, grinning when he realized that stayed up. “We already had a Christmas.”

Rose and Jackie stared blankly at him. “Charles Dickens. Gelth coming through the Rift. Gwnyth.” His voice went squeaky. That was new.

“That doesn’t count,” Rose laughed incredulously. “It was Christmas Eve, Mum,” she turned to Jackie, “and we met Charles Dickens. And we were supposed to go to Naples,” she eyed the Doctor, “but ended up Cardiff. S basically the same place. Anyway, the Gelth were these creatures made of living gas and they wanted to come over and use, well, they wanted to use,”

“They wanted to use the bodies of deceased humans to house their souls, I suppose you could call them. It was still Christmas,” he ended weakly.

“And I was almost killed by a Christmas tree,” Jackie countered. “Doesn’t mean I considered that my Christmas.”

“Well,” the Doctor made a face.

“Oh, I’ll figure something out. I might have bought a turkey the other day,” she teased, opening the freezer. “It’s all ready to go, just needs cooking.” A buzzing sound filled the air. “What are you doing?” She slapped the sonic screwdriver from his hand.

“Setting seven hundred and forty-two. Turkey.” He started to scan the turkey once more. Jackie slapped him again.

“You’d be well-advised to remove setting seven hundred forty-two. Don’t go around messing with my turkey,” she said threateningly.

The Doctor gulped. “Yes ma’am.”

Rose could see her mother grinning, the Doctor rubbing his reddening hand. “I’ll be right back,” he whispered. He disappeared into the TARDIS.

Rose stared at the door. He had been in there for almost fifteen minutes, and she wondered what he was up to. Her mother’s turkey was slowly cooking, and wouldn’t be ready for at least another two hours.

“Right then!” The Doctor came out wearing an apron over his pinstriped suit and the blue oven mitts from the TARDIS kitchen. “The TARDIS kitchen has a temporal oven. Put the turkey in, flip a switch, the oven stays put in time but we travel forward two hours. Bada-bing, bada-boom, turkey’s ready.” He was beaming.

“If you blow up my bird,” Jackie waved threateningly.

“It’ll be fine,” the Doctor tried to reassure her.

“Allons-y?”

“Get on with it,” Jackie opened the oven, “before I change my mind.” The Doctor took the bird into the TARDIS, Rose leading her mother to their kitchen. The Doctor frowned.

“What’s wrong?” Rose touched his arm.

“Nothing.” He grinned. “Look.”

The white lights that normally lit the TARDIS corridors were twinkling red and green. “Happy Christmas,” Rose smiled, fondly touching the wall. The lights flickered pink and yellow for a brief moment.

Jackie pointedly ignored the multi-coloured walls. “Well?”

“Okay, Jackie, one temporally baked turkey coming right up. I’m going to put it in here,” he placed the bird in the TARDIS’ oven, “press this button, and –” he turned on the sonic screwdriver for a moment, then took the turkey back out. “Voilà. One turkey.” He opened the lid and was pleasantly surprised by the aroma emanating from the bird. “It smells really good,” he said in wonder.

Jackie smirked, taking the turkey from the Doctor and placing it on the counter. “Get a move on, then. Vegetables are in the flat’s fridge and there are potatoes to be roasted and Brussel sprouts and parsnips to be baked. And there’s a plum pudding in the freezer,” she added, rolling her eyes. The Doctor was standing in the corridor in shock. “Get a move on, you plum! Dinner’s not going fix itself.”

The regular kitchen table had been tastefully decorated. A dark green tablecloth had replaced the blue chequers and the TARDIS had added white candles beside a festive centrepiece.

“You’ve outdone yourself,” he told the TARDIS, smiling. She lit the candles and the Doctor vaguely heard Jackie shouting at him from the galley. He fetched the rest of dinner from the flat and went back to see Jackie.

“Put the potatoes and vegetables in the same dish in the oven.” The Doctor tuned out her instructions. One didn’t simply live for nine hundred years and not learn how to cook vegetables. Besides, he had a sonic screwdriver. Within moments, the dishes were steaming and on the table.  
Rose had wandered in to the kitchen at some point and was relaxing in her one of the chairs. She had dressed up for the dinner, exchanging her hoodie for a dark green dress. After positively gushing about how beautiful her daughter looked, Jackie finally excused herself to put her own dress on.

“Don’t you wander off, Doctor.”

“He won’t, Mum,” Rose smirked.

“I’ll be right back, missy.” Jackie shook her head, leaving the TARDIS.

“Happy Christmas, Doctor.”

His hearts fluttered. “Happy Christmas Rose.”

The TARDIS, interfering, meddlesome thing that she was, had distastefully decided to decorate the kitchen with – “mistletoe,” Rose looked up.

“So there is. Happy Christmas,” he swiftly pecked her cheek.

Rose laughed. “You’re repeating yourself,” she hugged him.

“The human tradition of mistletoe is to kiss the other person, not hug him,” the Doctor pouted.

“All right,” Rose whispered. She reached up, delicately entwining her hands in his hair. Her eyes never left his and Time was in flux. He could taste her breath on his lips and he inhaled greedily. Her lips were parted and then they touched his and all he could think about was Rose. The smell of her, how her tongue was running over his lips. His lips parted in response and he poked his tongue out so that he was touching her teeth. Every touch was soft and careful, neither the Time Lord nor human wanting to push too far.


	87. Snow Angels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For TimePetalsPrompts winter bingo.

“Christmas in Northumberland. Look up at the top of the cliff,” the Doctor turned his companion away from the water, looking up the rock-face to see Bamburgh Castle.

“It’s gorgeous,” her gaze remained on the stone structure.

“From down here, yeah. Bit crowded up top, though.” He was still in his usual jeans and leather jacket. The beach was freezing, Rose thought. She was glad she’d worn the downy parka, the cold wind biting her exposed face. Their trek through the snow was beautiful, the white powder coating the castle in the distance. “Rose,” the Doctor said.

“Yeah?”

The Doctor grinned. And fell over backwards into the snow, his limbs splayed out, the snow moving out.

“Snow angels?” Rose laughed, joining the Doctor in the snow. The ocean was roaring, waves crashing onto the beach. Their hands brushed together and Rose impulsively laced her fingers with the Doctor’s. Her angel became lopsided, the outer edge deeper and fully formed. Rose vaguely wondered how deep the snow was, whether they would reach the sand below, and (briefly) if there was anything hibernating under the sand. “This wasn’t what I was expecting when you said we were at a beach,” Rose giggled, the sheer novelty of what they could do never ceasing to amaze her.

The Doctor sniffed. “You think this is impressive? There’s a planet out that way with the largest waves you’ve ever seen made of ice. Freezes in a single moment.”

“You make it sound so impressive,” Rose grinned.

“I’ll show you how impressive it is, Rose Tyler,” the Doctor practically purred. With that, he leapt up from where he was laying in the snow, not a single indent out of place in his body’s snow imprint. He gently (tenderly, thought Rose) pulled her to her feet, not once releasing her hand. For a moment, she thought she saw something in his eyes, but it disappeared before she could even begin to comprehend its significance. If she didn’t know better, she’d have sworn that the Doctor had wanted to kiss her. Properly kiss her. Snog her. Or, she told herself rationally, maybe she was just projecting her own feelings onto the Doctor’s face.

They stood in the middle of their snow angels.

“Come on, then,” the Doctor said at last. “Back to the TARDIS. Don’t want to have to treat you for hypothermia.” His mad grin made it obvious that he was joking.

“Tea in the library?” Rose asked.

“Yeah,” the Doctor’s grin relaxed, becoming a softer smile. She was fantastic. If he didn’t know better, the Time Lord would have sworn that she’d been flirting with him. Rose didn’t let go of his hand until after they were in the TARDIS.

“I’m just going to put some dry clothes on. I’ll meet you in the library,” her fingers slackened around his.

“Yeah,” he smiled, looking down at the console. “I’ll just put her in the Vortex.”

Rose kissed his cheek softly and smiled. She lingered beside him before finally heading towards her room.


	88. The Wrong Package

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor fumbled around and flicked the switch. Instantly, lights on the Doctor’s jumper began to flicker, red light pulsating from the tip of each banana. The back of the jumper read ‘Mistle-stoned’. So her mother had noticed that they’d been snogging under every branch of decorative mistletoe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Human AU. Established relationship.
> 
> Otpprompts: Your OTP(+) decides to exchange two sets of gifts for their holiday of choice, one suitable for public consumption, one not (be it lingerie or sex toys or any other such thing). Person A however, mixes up which package is which after wrapping, and puts the wrong one under the tree for the family opening of presents.
> 
> Winter Fic Bingo: Escape

Rose looked down at her shopping list. She’d nearly finished her Christmas shopping; the only person left on her list was “the Doctor,” she groaned. Her impossible-to-shop-for science-whiz/geek boyfriend who already owned everything that was useful. And then some.

“Might as well buy ‘im a toaster, maybe then he’ll stop blowin’ up Mum’s,” she laughed humourlessly. Rose happened to be passing an ‘adult entertainment shop’, as the advert read. She glanced at the sign, back at her list, and slowly looked over once more. Trying to appear as if she knew what she was doing, Rose entered the shop.

Clutching her purchase, Rose knew that she would have to buy another gift that would be a little better suited for the Doctor to unwrap in front of her family. She spotted a second-hand bookshop up the street and spent the next thirty minutes combing through their selection. For just over ten pounds, she purchased two Dickens stories and a book of Shakespearean verse.

Finally finished, Rose headed back to the flat to wrap her gifts. For her mum, she’d gotten a sweater; some music for Shireen and Keisha; and a new football jersey for Mickey. Anxious to be finished, she dumped all the packages under their small plastic tree and was about to leave when she remembered her first purchase for the Doctor. Quickly, she fumbled around and grabbed the parcel to stash in their bedroom.

Christmas morning found the couple hurriedly packing gifts into the spacious blue car, trying to make it to Jackie’s before nine o’clock. Packages under his arm, the Doctor rapped on the flat’s door. He made a face as Rose’s mum kissed him, wiping his face when she’d turned around, and strode in. He placed the presents under the Christmas tree and frowned. The tree stand was a little loose. He reached inside his jacket for his ever-present screwdriver when Jackie slapped his hand.

“I told you not to mess with anything,” she waved her own hand threateningly.

The Doctor scoffed. “Yes, Mum,” he said sarcastically.

“Watch it, mister,” she sneered, though her eyes were twinkling.

The Doctor joined Rose in the kitchen and watched – arms folded, leaning against the doorframe – as she placed the dinner that he’d prepared yesterday on the stovetop.

“Your mother’s cooking. Put it on low heat and let it simmer,” he instructed her, his jibe at Jackie doubling as cooking directions.

“She slapped you again? Maybe if you didn’t break all her appliances, she wouldn’t have to punish you,” Rose teased.

“I can think of a few ways I wouldn’t mind a Tyler woman punishing me,” he whispered, coming behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. He pressed a kiss to her head and Rose turned around, putting her own arms around his neck. He lifted her up to reach her mouth better, resting her bum on the counter. Rose groaned; the Doctor could taste her breath on his lips and kissed her urgently.

“You know, most people come into the kitchen to eat food,” a voice interrupted.

“Hello, Mickey,” Rose adjusted her skirt and ran a hand through her hair.

“Lucky it was me that walked in, not your mother.” Mickey shook his head. “Speaking of whom, she’s starting to miss your presence. You don’t have to watch the simmering pot. Tea’s on,” he left the kitchen. In silence, the couple joined the rest of the party.

“Oh there she is,” Jackie called. “Let’s do the presents now, shall we?” She began distributing the packages, reading the names aloud. “For the Doctor, from me. For Mickey, from Rose. For Rose, from the Doctor. For Shireen, from Mickey. For me, from Shireen.”

The small flat was filled with the sounds of rustling paper. Jackie had gotten the Doctor an absolutely hideous jumper, covered with smiling bananas wearing “Santa hats?”  
Jackie beamed. “Very festive. Try it on, go on then.”

Rose looked up from her new coloured pencils (“Thanks Mickey.”) to see the Doctor holding his new jumper at arm’s length. “Try it on, Doctor,” her sneaky tongue was poking out and the Doctor felt his resistance dissolving. Grimacing, he shrugged out of his plain green jumper. Trying to delay wearing the ugly Christmas sweater for as long as possible, the Doctor carefully folded his jumper, placing it down beside the sofa, incidentally giving Rose a nice view of his arse. She smirked appreciatively and looked back at her pencils, placing them on the floor under her chair.

“There’s a switch and battery pack on the left side,” Jackie was babbling excitedly.

The Doctor fumbled around and flicked the switch. Instantly, lights on the Doctor’s jumper began to flicker, red light pulsating from the tip of each banana. The back of the jumper read ‘Mistle-stoned’. So her mother had noticed that they’d been snogging under every branch of decorative mistletoe.

“That’s really nice, Mum,” Rose laughed and the Doctor’s expression softened.

“Thanks,” he muttered, turning off the flashing lights.

“Here,” Rose handed him her package. It was awfully light for a book, she thought. As the Doctor stripped away the wrapping paper, Rose caught a glimpse of cardboard. Oh no.  
The Doctor had an incredulous look on his face and Rose knew that she had brought the wrong gift. Her misgivings were confirmed when Jackie wrenched the pants from his hands and was now staring at them in horror.

Wrong present, she mouthed. Words failed her. Her mother was brandishing the Doctor’s new leather pants for the world to see. “Mum,” she hissed. “Put those down.”

Face red, the Doctor took the pants from Jackie. He tucked them back into the wrappings and ran his hand across his face, hiding his mouth. His blue eyes were sparkling and Rose knew that he was more amused than embarrassed. He hadn’t, however, bought the pants; he’d just been on the receiving end of what had been meant to be a private moment.

Barely tolerable of social functions, the Doctor looked trapped. Rose, too, felt the urge to escape the confines of her mother’s flat. The brief spark of amusement that she had seen a moment ago had disappeared. Rose stood and crossed the room to take the Doctor’s hand. “We’re just going to take a walk. Back in a mo’,” she told her mother, leading the Doctor from the room. She grabbed her own jacket and the couple left the flat.

“Looks like I grabbed the wrong package,” Rose smiled nervously, her tongue finding its way to a gap.

“Yeah,” the Doctor sighed.

“You’re not mad?” Rose was genuinely worried that he might have been. He barely got on with her mother at the best of times, and opening such an obviously sexual present in her presence must have been uncomfortable.

“I’ve survived worse, Mrs. Doctor,” he teased.

“I love you,” Rose shook her head, beaming.

“That why you want to see me in leather pants?” He asked, trying (and failing) to appear genuinely curious. “And here I thought it was my charm.”

“Shut up,” Rose mumbled, trying to kiss him. The Doctor continued, pretending to be oblivious to her advances.

“I know I’ve got a good, straight nose. But I honestly thought, my ‘exotic’, mysterious Northern accent and charming personality were what attracted you to me.” He finally looked down into Rose’s eyes.

“I love you, you daft softie,” Rose gently pulled his head down so that she could reach his lips. He was relaxed, his kiss sweet and tender. “Happy Christmas, Doctor,” she mumbled.

The Doctor said nothing, continuing to kiss her, the pair of them happy to have escaped to their own private world.


	89. Post-GITF

“Rose,” the Doctor spoke hesitantly. She did not turn to face him, but he could see her posture stiffen slightly. She stood, as if to walk out the galley and leave him to be in his thoughts once more. “Rose,” he said again, and she finally looked at him, her eyes wary.

“You said that you were still you,” she managed to keep her voice even, though she felt it almost crack.

“I am,” his hands reached for hers, his thumbs stroking her palms.

“He would…you would never have left me, us, to become stranded with no way home. Together, or…” she trailed off, glancing down at the floor.

“I am so sorry, Rose,” his hands don’t leave hers, his voice is soft and she can feel his gaze.

She looked as if she wants to say something more, but the words do not come. He resolved then and there that he would never leave her again. He had thought she had been shaken after meeting Sarah Jane, but that had been nothing in comparison to this. He had abandoned her, with no feasible means to return. Well, he could have met up with his first self in 1794, only waiting sixty-seven years. It still would have been instantaneous for his companions.

“I can’t think about this clearly right now,” she said, withdrawing her hand.

“I understand,” he said quietly, still watching her.

“No,” she said sadly, “you don’t.”

He takes her hand once more, pressing a soft kiss to her bare skin. “Then help me to.”

“Not now,” it hurts too much still, she thinks. The Doctor watches her leave the galley, making no further attempt to stop her. He knows that they need to talk about this further, but he can not press it now. He sits at the table, thinking about every mistake he’s made since he regenerated. There have been too many, he thinks, especially when it came to his friendship with Rose Tyler.


	90. Some Things Never Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timepetals Weekly Drabble: New

He knocked softly on the open door. “Rose?” The Doctor queried, poking his head in the room. He took a quick step back when he realized that his companion was still in bed. He made to close the door, but then saw that Rose was beginning to stir.

“Good morning, Rose,” he called happily, eager to start the day. “Shall we do Barcelona today? They’ve got dogs with no noses, did I tell you that?”

Rose rubbed her eyes, sitting up and pushing aside the large comforter. She blinked. She looked at the Doctor and blinked once more, twice, three times in succession. She rubbed her hand across her face, as if she couldn’t quite focus on what she was trying to see.

“Are you all right, Rose?” His voice tightened imperceptibly.

She stared at him, her face devoid of recognition. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Rose, it’s me,” he didn’t want a repeat of yesterday. Well, it wouldn’t be an exact repeat, she’d been standing in front of him while he’d changed.

“Doctor,” she said his name slowly, as if learning it for the first time. Which she was, in a way; she was learning to associated his name with his new face. Regeneration was never easy with a companion onboard. Not that it wasn’t difficult. Changing oneself was exhausting and it took a while to learn a new body’s quirks.

“Hello,” he smiled, and was pleased to see it mirrored on Rose’s face.

“Hello,” she said, and her smile grew to accommodate her tongue. “Doctor.”

“Rose Tyler,” he beamed.

He stood there, grinning at her madly, for the better part of five minutes.

“Banana pancakes?” Rose finally broke the silence, reaching for her dressing gown.

“Banana pancakes,” the Doctor declared, grabbing Rose’s hand and dragging her down the corridor beside him. He wasn’t exactly the same man anymore, but he knew that there were some things about him (like his love of…bananas) that hadn’t changed one bit.


	91. Lights

“Do we have to take the lights down?” The Doctor’s lips turned down and he turned to face Rose. They make the room so much more…open.”

Rose pretended to consider. “I suppose we could leave them up,” she said slowly. “I mean, it’s not like they’re blaring red and green. White lights are decorative without being festive.” She looked up at the Doctor. “I think they look nice,” she smiled.

“Me too,” the Doctor flipped the light switch, plunging the bedroom into darkness. The lights twinkled; though the Doctor and Rose Tyler were much too preoccupied to notice them.


	92. Cold

Rose’s body temperature was falling. “Rose, stay with me,” the Doctor said urgently. Her skin was turning blue from exposure to the cold. “We’re almost at the TARDIS,” he continued, massaging her in an effort to circulate her blood. “Rose, focus on my voice,” he looked into her eyes as he swung the door open. It slammed shut behind him and the corridor opened up immediately, leading straight to the infirmary.

The Doctor pressed a quick kiss to Rose’s forehead. “Let’s get you warmed up,” he stripped Rose’s frozen clothes off, using scissors where necessary. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his fingers massaging circles in her skin in an effort to restore circulation. He draped a blanket over her shoulders and Rose’s numb fingers scrabbled to grab hold of the material. He stuck a thermometer in her mouth, needing to know for certain that her internal body temperature hadn’t been affected. Rose continued to shake violently, each tremor wracking her body. He spoke to the TARDIS through their telepathic link and asked her to move a bathroom next door.

He drew a cool bath and led his companion to the water. “Is this too warm?” He asked, keeping his voice steady.

Rose shook her head, almost imperceptibly, even for a Time Lord to follow. The Doctor helped her into the tub, his hands constantly rubbing her. His skin was smooth, and Rose gripped his forearms with her cold hands. The Doctor continued to massage her as her convulsions began to cease, falling into a comfortable rhythm.

“Strip and put your robe on,” he said eventually, somewhat stiff. He lingered by the door, closing it. It opened fairly quickly and Rose stumbled over the raised bar that separated the tiled bathroom from the carpeted bedroom. The Doctor was quick to catch her, though, and carried her to her bedroom. He laid her upon the bed, placing a light blanket over her body. Hesitating briefly, he lay down next to her. Rose immediately burrowed into his side, and the Doctor awkwardly wrapped his arm around her. The Doctor pressed another soft kiss to his companion’s head as she lay next to him, her shaking finally stopping as she warmed.


	93. “I’m technically single, but my heart is taken by someone I can’t call my own.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Insp: https://dwficprompts.tumblr.com/post/156551654248  
> “I’m technically single, but my heart is taken by someone I can’t call my own.”

He loves her. It’s daft, he thinks. Here he is, fresh from ending the biggest War that’s ever threatened the universe, and he’s fallen in love with a soft, pink and yellow human. Technically, he was single. He had left his wife hundreds of years ago, ran away in a stolen TARDIS with their granddaughter. He knew that she did not miss him. How could she, for she was dead, killed when he blew up their planet.

The Doctor sighed, biting the inside of his cheek to keep the emotional pain at bay. He didn’t want to think of the family he had lost, not now. Try as he might, they wouldn’t leave his thoughts. At least Susan is safe, he thought, glad that he had been too afraid to ever go back and visit her. She was safe, far away from the horrors of the War, living on Earth in the twenty-second century. And as long as he left her alone, nothing bad could follow him there and hurt her.  
He loves her. Even in his own mind, he can barely admit it. Rose Tyler was human, far too young for an old Time Lord, far too innocent to be burdened with his love. For it would be heavy, with the weight of the death of his entire civilization resting on his shoulders. How could he even think that he would be worthy of her reciprocating his feelings? It’s daft, it’s preposterous. His hearts beat wildly in his chest as he looks at her. She’s dressed in a horrible pink tee shirt with her purple hooded jumper, but in that moment he thinks that he’s never seen anything more beautiful.

It’s stupid to think that he might have feelings for her. Even ignoring the fact that he’s (apparently) nine hundred years old, why would a man with all of time and space at his command be interested a poor shop girl from the Estates? No job, no A-Levels, how could someone who has done nothing ever interest him? It’s obvious, she fears, how hard she’s fallen for him.

She sneaks a look at him. He’s leaning against the console, arms crossed, eyes pensive. His leather jacket hangs open and she can see his green jumper. Rose wondered what he would do if she ever made a move on him. Send her home? Leave her on whatever planet they happened to be on? That he might respond never occurred to her.

She flirts a little with the locals, trying (and apparently failing) to get any reaction out of him. It’s not until Adam comes onboard that she realizes how gave of a mistake she’s made. She ignores Adam, soldiering on with her attempts to get the Doctor to flirt back with her. She dances with Jack, hoping to spark memory of their conversation about ‘dancing’, hoping to awaken something in him.

Two lifetimes later, they’re standing on a beach in a different universe, hand in hand. Two lifetimes later, Rose is the Doctor’s and the Doctor is hers. Together. The TARDIS fades from sight and he takes her hand. Her fingers curl automatically gripping his. They look at each other and this new new Doctor wants to kiss her again. Slowly, hesitantly, he lifts their hands to his mouth, kissing the back of hers. Rose Tyler and the Doctor.

Rose is gone, and Donna is gone, and he’s alone once more. He’s alone as he regenerates, and he tries so hard not to think of the last time. Paper crowns and Christmas dinner. He invites a new companion onboard, and picks her up twelve years later. He meets River again. And again. Hearts sinking, he realizes that these are going to become more commonplace, especially as their timelines begin to catch up. She is in love with him, it’s obvious; even Amy can see it. He wonders whether the women can tell that he’s not truly interested in River, she intrigues him as a mystery should, not as a woman. There’s someone else’s name written on his hearts, not hers.


	94. Chocolate

Chocolate. The only way Rose could describe the Doctor’s new eye colour – dark and deep and warm, his eyes were like looking into a pool of melted chocolate. She missed his blue eyes, of course, but the new Doctor held his place in her heart. Trying not to stare into his brown eyes obliviously, Rose watched the Doctor as he puttered around the console, running his gob off. She wanted to make him stop talking, she wanted to press her lips to his to make him quiet. She’d thought that something had been changing between them before he had regenerated.


	95. In the Library

The library was Rose’s favourite room in the TARDIS, except perhaps for the console room. The walls were made of the same coral and metal siding as the rest of the ship, and the squashy chairs were almost as comfortable as her mattress. A large fireplace was always roaring on the far wall, and many a ‘night’ was spent listening to the Doctor read aloud in front of it. The masses of shelves were another space to explore, and were as far opposite as intimidating as could be.

The Doctor was silently reading his own novel at the moment. From what Rose could make of the covers, it was a science (fiction?) novel from an alien world. She put off any pretense of reading her magazine and tucked her feet under her legs, laying on her side. The Doctor glanced over at her and smiled, a small smile that was only noticeable if one looked closely. There wasn’t much space between them on the small couch, especially since Rose had ceased sitting upright. Slowly, Rose inched her way up; she straightened her legs and her head found its way into the Doctor’s lap. He continued reading the book.

Sometimes, thought the Doctor, Rose Tyler made it very difficult to not snog her. Over the past twenty minutes, she had gone from leaning against the far side of the sofa to practically sitting in his lap. Just because he wasn’t human, didn’t mean that he wasn’t attracted to her as a woman. He tried to focus on the novel, a fourth century legend telling of before the cyborgs were integrated into Sto society. The subject was fascinating, but it wasn’t enough to distract him from his very human companion who was currently snuggling with him.

“Told you it was dull,” he said by way of an icebreaker.

Rose didn’t move. She hummed in response, lacing her fingers with his free hand. They held hands very often, but this was different. This was soft, almost romantic. Friends didn’t hold hands while sitting on the sofa. He might have been an alien, but Rose was deeply attracted to him. She studied the lines on his face, how square his jaw was, how straight his nose was. 

If he didn’t know better, the Doctor would have sworn that Rose was studying him. The look on her face almost suggested that she was interested in him, that she would be just as interested in kissing him as he was her. He instead pressed a soft kiss to her head and tried to continue reading.


	96. White Hot Cocoa

White hot chocolate was amazing, thought Rose, gripping her Styrofoam cup in her cold hands. She snickered as the Doctor lowered his cup from his mouth, a foamy white cream mustache-ing his face.

“What?” He asked several times, but Rose shook her head. It was nothing, and it really was funny that he didn’t feel the milky drink on his upper lip.

“Rose, what is it? You’re staring,” he said, a little saucier than he’d meant.

“S nothing,” her tongue teased him from behind her teeth. He kissed her suddenly, and Rose responded automatically; he tasted like white chocolate.


	97. The Christmas Invasion Interlude

Rose slipped away from the Doctor, leaving him to lengthily explain various Christmas traditions – both Earthly and alien – to an empty room and joined her mother silently in the kitchen. Jackie struck the match deftly against the coarse matchbook and lit the white candle, smiling sadly. Rose clung to her mother a little tighter than she had in previous years, remembering the time she’d been able to spend with her father. Knowing him as person made the tradition more emotional for Rose, though she was thankful for the opportunity.

“Well, that’s that then,” Jackie quickly wiped her face dry and turned to the stove. “Get himself and Mickey in here and we’ll have dinner.”

Rose nodded, her face drawn. She left her mother and called Mickey in from in front of the telly where he was (predictably) watching the match.

Standing in front of the TARDIS, Rose paused a moment before going in. “Too domestic for you?” She called, hoping that the Doctor would hear her.

“Nah,” the Doctor emerged from the corridor. “Go on, I’ll be out in just a mo. Just checking everything over, like I said, bit of a dodgy process.”

“Oh,” Rose was suddenly worried.

“No! No, it’s fine! Just a bit of regenerative sickness! That’s why the coma! Completely fine now!” He was quick to assure her, rambling. He swooped down and kissed her forehead, like he had in his last body and turned around, dashing off to find the wardrobe.

Rose stood in the room a moment by herself, her hand softly touching where the Doctor’s lips had touched her and smiled.


	98. Resolutions

Second chances were not to be taken lightly. Having made a vow, quietly whispered in Rose’s ear on the beach, the Doctor now made a resolution. He had promised to love her, forever and always, to spend his human life with her. She had been completely vulnerable when she’d looked at him, as what he’d said dawned on her. He resolved to tell her, every day of their forever, how much she meant to him. The Doctor and Rose Tyler, now with matching forevers. He squeezed her hand tighter and Rose smiled unconsciously.

They looked at each other and a Rose tightened her grip on his hand. She had spent so long trying to get back to her Doctor, and now he was spending his life with her. Rose reached for his free hand and laced their fingers together. Quietly, they walked to where Jackie was waiting for them. Rose’s mother was practically swelling with questions, but they ignored her, murmuring to each other. They sat close together, always touching. The Doctor’s lips brushed Rose’s forehead.

Looking at the Doctor who had chosen to stay with her, at the Doctor whom she knew loved her, Rose resolved to cherish every moment – good and not so good – that they spent together. She smiled when he kissed her again, her free hand coming up to touch his face. “Doctor,” she said his name quietly, smiling broader as he kissed her fingers. She pulled his head forward, guiding his lips to hers. His lips were parted and she felt his breath hitch as she pressed her forehead against his.

“Rose Tyler,” his voice was full of love, but Rose thought that he sounded slightly hesitant. She kissed him firmly, knowing that she had made the right choice, knowing that her forever and his were now permanently intertwined.


	99. Vitex

He kissed her sweetly, tenderly, wanting to whisk her away back to the TARDIS. Her silken dress hugged her curves, pools of fabric swishing against the floor. Her laugh was music to his ears, and he wasn’t above secretly leaving Pete’s promotional Vitex party early to spend some time together. He kissed her again, slowly moulding his mouth to hers, and Rose’s hands quickly found their way to the back of his neck. Rose kissed him, gently bringing his head down so she could kiss him easier.


	100. Woman Wept

Rose bounced across the console room and reached for the Doctor’s hand, ready to venture out onto a new world.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The Doctor’s voice stopped her; Rose looked from the door to her companion, her eyes questioning.

“I told you that the planet was frozen.” He held up a pair of ice skates, and Rose’s face split into a grin. She hurriedly pulled off her boots, putting them under the jump seat, and laced up the skates. She wobbled back to the Doctor, and saw that he was already wearing his own skates in place of his usual boots. Opening the door, he waited for Rose to slowly make her way outside. He was locking the door, listening to her reactions to the planet. She gasped fairly audibly, and reached back for his hand. He grasped it quickly, and Rose looked at him with such a pure expression that he felt something rise from the bottom of his deadened heart.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed. “How long’s it been frozen?” Rose reached out as if to touch the huge ice walls, her hand stopping within centimetres of making contact.

“A few billion years,” the Doctor replied simply, enjoying the look of astonishment on his companion’s face. This was why he travelled with another, to experience the universe anew.

They skated across the ice world, Rose too in awe of the gigantic frozen waves to notice the Doctor watching her. When at last the Doctor noticed how red her face was and started back to the TARDIS, it felt as though they had just arrived.

“I think this is one of my favourite planets you’ve taken me to see,” Rose admitted.

“Mine too,” the Doctor grinned, looking at his companion. He unlocked the door and Rose unwound her long scarf (long, but it had nothing on the one he had worn so long ago) and removed her gloves. They stepped into the TARDIS and unlaced their skates, putting them in a bin that the Doctor brought up from beneath the grating so that the snow wouldn’t melt everywhere.

“I’ll see you in the galley, ten minutes,” Rose pointed at him and smiled. “I think some hot cocoa would be nice.”

“Just what the Doctor ordered,” the Doctor replied cheekily. Rose looked at him a moment longer, then kissed his cheek.

“See you in ten,” she grinned, her tongue finally making an appearance.

The Doctor smiled softly as Rose walked away, putting the TARDIS back into the Time Vortex before making his way to the galley.


	101. Valentine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One final snippet of the Doctor and Rose Tyler…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine’s OTP Day!   
> Winter Fic Bingo – Cupid, Wish  
> timepetalsprompts – Valentine’s

The Doctor glanced distastefully at the gaudy pink box of chocolate hearts on the coffee table in Jackie’s sitting room. The TARDIS had landed them in the right time and place, but of all days to land, she had to pick Valentine’s Day. A newspaper lay beside the sweets and the Doctor picked it up, flicking through it absently. Every advertisement space was filled with fat winged cherubs and nearly all of them were some shade of red or pink.

The Doctor had thought many times of telling Rose Tyler exactly how he felt about her. He’d come close, many times, but somehow he’d never found the courage to say the three words that would irrevocably change their relationship. Instead, he kept reminding himself of every reason why it would never work. He was too old, too broken, she was too human, he didn’t want to risk their friendship… They were shallow excuses, and he knew it. He’d already given in and kissed her once (she could never remember, and how it broke his hearts), and he couldn’t risk pushing her away.

Rose came from the kitchen, her hand immediately reaching for his. “Are you ready then? I’ve just said goodbye to Mum, we’re clear to go now,” her tongue was constantly teasing him, poking out at the most inopportune moments. He wished that he could snog her then and there, and never mind anything or anyone else. He cleared his throat noisily.

“Oh, you know me, Rose Tyler. Always on the move,” he beamed, pulling his companion along to the TARDIS. Rose laughed, and the Doctor’s grin grew. Rose adjusted her backpack, the same one she’d brought the first time she’d come back with him to the TARDIS, and the Doctor found himself lifting it off her shoulders and onto his own back.

“Ta,” Rose muttered, her hand snaking around to hold his. The walk down the stairs to the parked TARDIS was comfortable; hands touching, but no angry aliens or royalty chasing after them.

The Doctor had his key in his hand, but paused before unlocking the time and spaceship. “Rose,” he said uncertainly.

“Mm?”

“I was – is Jackie watching us from the window?” His tone changed to one of surprise, his eyes flicking from Rose’s face to the estate flats. He quickly pushed the door open, pulling Rose in.

“S just Mum,” Rose snickered at the Doctor’s impatience to be away from the domesticity of the estate.

Safely hidden in the TARDIS, the Doctor found himself tongue-tied. He wittered on about the next planet he wanted to visit with her and spun around the console, sending the TARDIS into the time vortex.

“Doctor,” Rose interrupted his spiel.

“Yes, Rose?” The Doctor’s hearts summersaulted in his chest.

“Shut up,” her face was aglow with humour, her tongue teasing him once more.

“I might have to be persuaded…” He clicked his jaw.

Rose grinned sultrily. “Guess I’ll just have to do my best.”

He didn’t wait for her to try. The Doctor kissed Rose Tyler with enthusiasm. He snogged her, his mouth thoroughly occupied by her tongue. Her tongue was playful, the minx, and he savoured the taste of her inside him.


End file.
